The Secrets of the Girl with the FoxLike Face
by kc256
Summary: Everyone has their share of secrets, including the girl that they called Foxface, in the 74th Hunger Games. Now she will reveal everything... and it will surprise you. T because it's the Hunger Games!
1. Becoming

**Note: Hi everyone! I know, I really should be working on Atalantarah, but I got this idea, and it was so awesome... One question (virtual cookies to the person who answers this, or I can just read and review all your stories, or both): Did dumpsters exist in 1924? I'm not sure. If they didn't, then I will have to change this to something else.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the incredibly awesome Hunger Games (meaning the books are awesome, not the games themselves), the slightly less awesome Twilight Saga, or anything in the incredibly awesome Hunger Games, or slightly less awesome Twilight Saga. :(**

**Enjoy! (and remember to review!)**

**_EDIT: After re-reading this, I noticed many typos... now they should all be fixed. I also made some other minor fixes, rearranging a few words, adding a bit more detail here and there... I would like to completely redo it, because I feel like now my writing is a lot better, but I don't want to change the story too much. If anyone has an opinion on this, feel free to PM me._  
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_Prologue:_

_Happy memories are good things. They are things to cling to when everything is wrong. They are that little burst of sunshine after a horrible storm. They were how I survived those years of torture._

_We were a perfect family: a happy, pretty, working mother; a strong, healthy, kind father; and two little girls –my sister and I- , twins, sweet, cute and angelic. _

_We were troublemakers, sure, but we always got away with it. Combine my meticulous planning and plotting with my sister's ability to get us out of a bad situation by finding the perfect hiding spot or talking her way out of anything, and we were the ideal trickster duo. We were each others' best friends, and could never be separated. We were peas in a pod. And our names had alliterated as well, to further strengthen the bond._

_Of course it didn't last. Nothing that happy and innocent does._

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**January 1924, Chamonix, France**

I don't remember the exact date it happened. All I remember is that it was January, right before the first Olympic Winter Games. I was with my sister, walking around town, watching the preparations. We were seventeen at the time, carefree and oblivious. We were tourists, of course, and it was the vacation of a lifetime. At least, it was supposed to be.

It was late, almost one o'clock in the morning, I think, when it happened.

We were walking along a particularly dark street, trying to hurry home. We were out much later than we planned.

And then, out of nowhere, he came.

The man who attacked us was so strikingly beautiful, we hesitated, not sure what he wanted. Next thing I knew, my sister was on the ground, screaming. On the palm of her hand was a crescent-shaped cut, bleeding and bleeding.

I ran.

The man looked at me, then back at my sister. I guess he figured he could always come back to her later, to finish her off, because he followed me.

I was never as fast as my twin, so the strange man caught me quickly. He bit me, on the back of my neck, where my sweater had slipped.

I thought I was done for.

But then, a miracle happened. A shadow leaped out of the darkness, and attacked my assailant.

"No, Laurent," my attacker snarled, in a velvety voice, "she's my kill."

Laurent smiled. "Not anymore." And then he lunged, swiping at him.

I stumbled through the streets, pressing my hand to where the man bit me. I felt blood trickle steadily through my fingers. Finally, I reached my sister.

She was trying to crawl away. I wanted to help her, but… my neck. It was burning, burning hotter than fire, hotter than the sun. The heat spread through my body.

"Help," my sister croaked.

"We… can't… stay…" I managed to choke out. What would my parents think if they saw me? They would assume all the wrong things…

We stumbled into a dumpster, and simultaneously collapsed in pain.

The raging burn inside me grew, covering my whole body. I was on the verge of blacking out, but I knew if I lost consciousness, I would never awaken again.

I can't tell you how long it lasted: maybe minutes, maybe hours, maybe days. All I know is that whenever I could find that tiny amount of strength to open my eyes, the festivities of the Olympics continued around me. Every once in a while, if the top of the dumpster was open, I caught a glimpse of a newspaper, or something that would have my sister's picture, or mine, with "Have you seen me?" underneath, in French. I wanted to yell, "I'm right here!", but I couldn't open my mouth, not without screaming and flailing, and possibly hurting my sister. Sometimes, my gaze flickered over to her. I could barely see her in my peripheral vision, and I couldn't turn my head, as hard as I tried, without setting off the rest of my body thrashing. I could only see her flaming red hair, covered in grime. A little part of me wondered if my equally blazing hair was that dirty as well. But then, my eyes would close, and all I could see was blackness.

I resisted. I wanted to survive, I wanted my sister to survive, I wanted to return to my family, and tell them all that happened. For a bit, that little insane part of me wanted to thank that Laurent for distracting that other man, but Laurent had wanted to kill me too, hadn't he? Maybe it would be better _not_ to be killed, after all that had happened so far? Huh. Nope, everything just got worse. Maybe I should've gotten him to kill me. It would have saved a lot of pain.

Through all this the burn continued. It seeped from the wound in my neck, down my shoulders, scorching my arms, sizzling my fingers down to each once-perfect nail. It traveled down my torso, boiling every vital organ inside my body. It crept down my legs, eating up my feet, baking my toes. But by far the worst was when it slunk up my neck, feeling its way around my head, and settling itself, roasting my brain. It was hard to say where the burn was hottest. I knew if I sank into blackness, nothingness, I would never come back, never see my sister again. I didn't want that to happen.

But one day, I'm not sure when, so maybe I shouldn't say 'day'… one moment, the tips of my fingers, stopped burning. The massive heat was retreating. It spiraled away from my palms, my wrists, my forearms. It happened slowly, but surely. It even began moving away from my toes, my ankles, my shins. I hoped my sister was getting the same relief, if not more.

I waited for the burning to go away. It eventually did, but first, it settled itself in my heart. My pulse was racing, trying to compete with this burn, but the burning eventually won. My heart shuddered, and then died. The burning disappeared.

I sat up, for the first time in a while. I wanted to scream, but when I opened my mouth, a perfect, pale hand covered it. I brushed it away, settling for a feral growl that somewhat relieved my tension.

"Roni?" said a soft tinkling voice from behind me.

I whirled around. I realized that I was so much faster than before. I turned my mind away from that distracting (but very true) thought, and examined the person behind me. She had bright red hair, and her skin was very pale, but perfect. I realized that she was the person who covered my mouth. She almost looked friendly, approachable, but… her eyes. They were a striking bright crimson. I started shying away, when I realized something. She looked almost like… but that couldn't be.

"Vicki?" I ventured. I realized that my voice had the same tinkling quality. How strange. "Is that you?"

"Are you really Veronica?" she asked, and I knew I had to answer; otherwise it could go on forever.

"Yes, I am. Now answer me: are you my sister?"

She laughed a pretty laugh. "Of course I am your sister! How could you not recognize me? You, on the other hand… what happened?"

"What happened to you? You are so pale, and your eyes… they are blood red."

"Blood." she said, almost trance-like.

"Blood…" I replied, knowing what she meant. My throat was burning, thirsting for blood.

"Its dark out." she muttered, and I knew what she meant.

We leaped out of the dumpster, vaulting gracefully above all the garbage. I saw a girl walking by herself. She was heading away from me.

I ran, silently. When I leaped, I could smell it inside her. I sank my teeth into her flesh, and sucked the life out of her.

Three innocent people later, I realized that I wasn't human anymore. I was a thing of legends. I was a monster. I was… a vampire.

And if I was a vampire, my sister was too.

You probably have heard of her.

My sister, Victoria, was a vampire. And there was nothing I could do about it.


	2. Separating

**Note: I am back! And I have (finally) updated! Yay! I promise that Atalantarah will be updated soon, I am so close to finishing the next chapter! Giant thanks to Commander Ael, the first reviewer for this story! PLEASE, follow her amazing example and review! That would make me very happy.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games trilogy, the Twilight Saga, or anything in them. (most obviously)**

**Enjoy!**

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"Victoria!" I called. How sickeningly sweet my voice sounded. I shuddered, and called her name again, only to find her right next to me.

"What?" she asked. I winced at those eyes, those burning scarlet eyes.

"We're… we're…" I couldn't get the words out.

"What?" she repeated, her disgustingly perfect face frowning.

"Vampires," I managed to get out, "we're vampires."

"Vampires don't exist, Roni." she sighed.

"Why do you think everything is different?" I asked, my tinkling voice rising. "Why do you think we can see everything perfectly? Why is there an eighth color at the end of the rainbow? Why are we thirsting for blood? Why…"

"I get your point," she muttered, "but I don't believe you. It must be some strange disease that that creepy man transmitted to us. It affected our vision, and… and…"

"Do you seriously believe that, Vicki? Because I don't. We're monsters, and there's nothing we can do about it."

"Fine, we're vampires, then. What do we do now?"

"You come with me, and learn how to dispose of your victims so that the Volturi don't destroy you, because believe me, that would be a pity." purred a voice behind us.

We whirled around. A man was there, smiling. He had crimson irises, and looked familiar. "Laurent," I growled, realizing that this was the vampire that saved me while trying to kill me.

Laurent smiled. "Yes, that is my name. What's yours, pretty one?"

"Get away from us!" I yowled. My reasoning was that if he had tried to kill me before, what would be next?

"Roni! What's the matter with you? He's trying to help us!" My sister obviously didn't see that he could be a threat.

"Of course, I'm only trying to help you." The way he said it made all my senses scream "Suspicious! Suspicious!"

"No, you're not, and I don't trust you." I snarled.

"How do you know him?" Victoria tried a different tactic.

"Oh, it's nothing really; he only tried to kill me. That's all." That would make her see sense.

"What are you talking about?" Laurent asked, pretending to be all innocent. Like that was going to fool me.

"Liar," I mumbled.

"Veronica! Obviously you've mistaken him for someone else." She smiled, thinking that she was so smart.

"Obviously I've mistaken him for someone else with the _same name_."

She threw her hands up in the air. "You're impossible, Roni!"

"I may be impossible, but I am trying to save us from certain death."

"I have no intention of killing you. I wish to make that perfectly clear." Laurent said in his velvety voice.

"See? Roni, you are wrong, he doesn't want to kill either of us, and never has."

"It's your life…" I muttered. I started walking away, slowly though, so that my sister could have time to realize that I was right.

"Wait a minute!" she screeched, just like I thought she would. "Are you just leaving me? We're sisters, twins, best friends! You can't just ditch me like this!"

"Do you want to forget this whole incident and come with me? Or do you want to put your trust in this complete stranger who wants you dead? It's your choice, Victoria."

"If you're going to be that way, maybe I'm better off going with Laurent."

"Maybe you are! Go get yourself killed! Go on! Don't mind me, I'll just be saving my life, and mourning yours!" With that, I ran.

Don't think that I was heartless enough to just ditch my sister. I was sure that she would race after me.

I ran and ran, testing my new speed, and then realized that Victoria wasn't behind me like I had thought. Once again, I underestimated the power of her stupidity.

By the time I had raced back, intending to force her away from Laurent, they were gone. Believe me, I searched everywhere for them, but I was no match for Victoria's fleeing instinct.

I fell to my knees and cried. I sobbed, shaking, shivering, and imagining the worst for my sister. Would Laurent spring upon her in the middle of the night, and drain her of life? Would he lure her into some sadistic trap? Would he make her turn on me?

When the sun rose, hours later, I was still there, huddled on the ground, trying to pull it together.

That was when the most extraordinary thing happened.

When I was about to give up, to hurl myself off a cliff or something, a little girl came up to me. She was young, maybe five, and obviously approaching a strange lady crying in the middle of the town didn't scare her.

"What's wrong?" she asked, her voice lilting and sweet, but natural, and so unlike mine.

I hesitated, but decided that it wouldn't make any difference if I told this one child. "I lost my sister." I explained. I was about to lift my head up, to see her face, but decided against it. She would surely be frightened of my piercing eyes.

"Oh," she said, sitting next to me. I could smell her blood, and the monster in me thirsted for it. But I had already drunk, and she was so innocent… "I lost my sister too." she added.

"That's too bad, it must be horrible." I muttered.

"She made me wake up so early to see the snow people. And on the way we passed a really pretty place, and I looked, but when I looked back at her, she was gone."

"I'm sure she's looking for you right now."

"Yes, she is so big and so nice and so… so… grand! She is looking for me now. What about your sister?"

"She made a bad decision, and we were separated, and now I can't find her."

The girl stood, and patted me on the shoulder. "Why don't you look for her? She must be somewhere."

"She doesn't want me." I said. It really wasn't true though, it was that I didn't want her. With Laurent, that is.

"Does that matter?" she asked. "Keep looking and you'll find her. And then everything will be all happy, and she'll want you back!"

"Aurore?" called a voice.

"There's my sister! You were right, she was looking for me!" she exclaimed.

"Aurore, there you are!"

The girl, Aurore, began running toward her sister. They embraced. "Oh Aurore, I was so terrified, I was sure that I had lost you!"

With two humans so close, the burn was stronger. I tore myself away, and ran the opposite direction.

I could still hear Aurore when she turned and called "Good luck!"

"Who was that?" asked her sister.

"My friend, she lost her sister too."

"Don't talk to strangers Aurore. And don't trouble yourself with their concerns." scolded the sister.

"She's not a stranger, and she is going to find her sister."

After that they were out of earshot. But I will always remember that little girl, Aurore, who gave me confidence.

It was thanks to her that I kept going, and that I am here now.

Although maybe that isn't such a blessing as it might seem.


	3. Moving

**Note: I am finally back! Thank you so much to my reviewers for making me update. I promise that, from now on, I will update more often! Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own The Hunger Games, Twilight, or anything in them.**

After a while, I got used to hiding, living alone, and killing people on a daily basis. That was the easy part, actually. The hard part was being away from Victoria. Each day when the sun rose, I wasn't sure if she was still alive, if she still remembered me.

I couldn't stay in Chamonix, because it seemed like people were getting suspicious, with so many people dying and all. So I moved, little by little journeying around France. If there was one thing I loved about being a vampire, it was my strength and my speed. I could spend one night in Paris, and the next in Vernon. Eventually, I moved on to Switzerland, then Italy. I got settled into a rhythm. Travel, hunt, travel, maybe see some famous places by night, travel, and hunt some more. What scared me was that I could kill without thinking, without batting an eye. When I thirsted, I found an isolated person, and I took them down. I had become a ruthless killing machine.

Years later, when I was jogging through a small town in Austria, I realized that I missed my sister. I missed her terribly. But it isn't exactly a small world, and I had no idea where to find her. However, I knew of one place where she had always wanted to visit: America. She had always talked of going to New York, or maybe seeing Yellowstone, or sunbathing on a Hawaiian beach. I was ready for a little adventure, so I booked a flight with some money that had just been sitting in the bank that I obviously didn't need any more.

That may have been either the smartest or the stupidest thing that I have ever done, which is actually saying a lot.

The airport was torture, with all of those juicy humans bustling along. I knew that I couldn't just lash out and attack someone in the middle of a crowded place. And even though I had made sure to feed on more humans than I usually allow myself, I could barely resist.

The contacts in my eyes itched, and I tried not to blink for fear of them dissolving again. I made sure to leave on a cloudy day, because it would be very strange for someone to be walking around sparkling.

I hated every minute of my five hour plane ride. The people next to me reeked with blood. Every time the woman to my right turned a page in her book, the tiny disturbance in the air sent more delicious scents to me. I tried to read the book that I had brought, but I was too distracted to comprehend a single word.

When we landed in New York City, I was amazed at… well everything. It was so large and so beautiful! I wished that Victoria had been there with me.

I explored for a while, replaced my contacts, and when dusk came, I hunted. However, I couldn't find anyone alone, and I realized what a poor choice New York City was for a vampire. I decided to run to a new place.

I steadily headed west for years, sometimes zigzagging along so that people wouldn't realize that murders were happening in a straight line across the country.

In about 1972, I reached Alaska, and settled in Denali National Park. The pickings were incredibly easy. I could just snag a hiker here, a mountain climber there, and maybe find a nice pretty place to gaze at in wonder before dusk. Not that the light mattered anymore, as I no longer needed to sleep.

One day, I saw a very unusual sight. I was walking down a trail that perhaps might be exhausting for a human after taking down a hiker, when I saw her. She had strawberry blonde hair, and I suppose she could have been breathtakingly beautiful as well. But the odd thing was that she was wrestling a grizzly. I stopped, in awe, and watched for a bit. It wasn't for several moments that I realized that she didn't have a human scent. She was a vampire, like me.

I had crossed paths with others like me in the past, but we never really communicated, just kept our distance, and tried not to kill each other or anything. But I couldn't help but stare as I saw this apparently sane vampire attacking a bear instead of a human. When she killed it, she even drank its blood! I was… disgusted. Humiliated, even.

"What are you doing?" I called out, unable to stand it anymore.

The girl turned, as if just noticing me. She sized me up for a moment, taking in my burning scarlet eyes, my wild crimson hair billowing out behind me. Maybe she even saw a bit of a sparkle when the sun peeked out from behind a cloud. "Hunting," she stated, matter-of-factly.

"Tell me, why you are hunting a stupid bear!" I exclaimed. As I neared, I noticed a strange thing about her. Her eyes were a melted gold, and her features were more kind than most vampires'.

"I am hunting a "stupid" bear because I am humane, and I do not wish to harm innocent humans."

I gagged. "Do you really value petty human's lives over your status as a decent vampire?" Even to me, it sounded wrong. But hunting bears is just even more wrong and… unnatural.

"My sisters and I really do value human lives, unlike monsters like you."

That hurt, especially coming from her. "You have sisters?" I asked, missing Victoria even more.

She smiled. "They aren't my biological sisters, but we treat each other like family. We all live together, and cooperate to make all of our lives easier."

"Who are you?" I inquired, wondering how a vampire could not drink human blood, and coexist with multiple others.

"They call me Tanya. Who are you?"

"I am a decent vampire that acts the way that nature intended!" And with that, I dramatically turned and scampered away. I was so sick of that moral Tanya and her world-conscious sisters.

I ran longer than I had ever ran before, wanting to put distance between myself and the so-called "vampire". I was so preoccupied with my own little rants that I didn't notice their voices until I almost ran into their camp.

"They call themselves vampires? They must be crazy!"

"They're sick and diseased."

"I can't stand their 'oh, I am so humane and pure and blah, blah, blah' talk!"

It would be perfectly natural for me to be surprised, and I was. To meet up with another small pack of vampires, who had apparently met Tanya and her sisters, was one in a million in itself. But there was one more thing about that last voice that haunted and excited me at the same time.

It was Victoria's.


	4. Following

**Note: I am so sorry that I have not had time to update this! Now that Winter Break is here (yay!) I will update more often. I want everyone to know that the Twilight part of this fic will be over soon, and the more interesting Hunger Games part will begin. Just hang in there for one or two more chapters. I will try to speed everything up with writing that my English teacher would call "telling" instead of "showing", so that I can get to the good parts sooner. I have come to the realization that this won't be a fifty chapter fic, maybe ten at most. But enough of me blabbing on. Pease enjoy this chapter, and don't forget to review. (Thanks so much to my reviewers! It means SO MUCH to me)**

**Do I really need a disclaimer? By now you should know that I do not own The Hunger Games or Twilight.**

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I was frozen in place, wondering if I had only imagined my sister's voice. But the longer I stood there, and the more I heard, the more that I realized that she _was_ there. She wasn't alone, of course. That Laurent was there, and someone else too, someone new…

I quickly scampered up a nearby tree, and perched in its concealing branches. I leaned closer, and examined the third member of their party. He was tall, and ferocious looking. His hair was dirty blond, not quite dark but not quite light. His eyes were bright ruby red, and it was clear that he had just come back from a hunt.

I couldn't help but notice the way that Victoria looked at him, like he was the one thing in this world that mattered. Somehow, this bothered me, even though I kept telling myself that she should be able to have her own life, her own loves. Whenever she had a crush on someone at school, back when we were human, I would always be the first to know. But when I saw him, I felt disappointed. I was left out of my sister's life, unimportant to her, for the first time in my life.

By eavesdropping on their conversation, I found out that they had been traveling around Canada for quite a while, and came to Alaska quite recently. They had wandered around Denali, picking off hikers and climbers easily, until they met Tanya and her troop of "vegetarians". Tanya had told them to go away from the park, as people would soon notice the unusually high amount of deaths in the area. But Victoria, Laurent, and the third, whose name turned out to be James, protested, and stayed. They had been moving around, but never left as Tanya wished. I silently congratulated them- I did not want to mess with Tanya.

I could've stayed there forever- literally- but it looked like Laurent wanted them to get a move on. He told them that maybe they should leave the park, as wary humans might be harder to hunt. He pointed out that they could easily travel south for a bit, to Canada again, or down to the lower forty-eight states of the U.S.

After a few hours of hushed bickering, Victoria and James reluctantly agreed. As they took off from their camp, I followed them, making sure not to make any noise.

The days went on and on, them running, me following, each of us occasionally dispersing for a quick hunt. I don't think that they ever noticed me, but there were a few close calls. One time, Laurent and I were stalking the same hopeless hiker. I was careless from my thirsting for blood, I must admit. Just as I was about to leap out and tackle the human, Laurent sauntered out of the shadows and pounced. A guttural growl started to form in my throat, and I was almost about to attack him for stealing my rightful prey.

But something came to me then, a flimsy human memory of a time that I always suppressed. I looked at the poor trembling hiker, frozen in his tracks. Time slowed, and as Laurent sprang, I saw another time, when he sprang out of the shadows to claim _me_ as his rightful prey. This hiker, this innocent man, he would be condemned to the same fate as me if I attacked Laurent. Much as I enjoyed the benefits of being a vampire, I would much rather be a dead mortal than a cursed immortal.

The hiker was on the ground now, writhing in pain. I turned away from this terrible sight, and a pang of remorse almost came over me. He probably had a family, maybe even a wife and children. His parents would probably be devastated when they learned that he had died. His friends would mourn him… before I knew what had come over me, I curled up on the soft soil, crying.

I looked up again, to see Laurent looking around, confused at the small sobbing sounds that he must have heard. I ran as far away from the scene as possible, shaking my head to try and get the horrible image of the helpless man standing fixated in place.

After a few encounters like this, I was always wary while hunting. I don't know why I didn't want to confront them, but it probably had something to do with my bad experiences with Laurent. I still followed them, having nothing better to do in my everlasting life.

We traveled through Canada for a while, but eventually went back to the United States, this time to Washington. We stayed in Seattle, but our kills were quickly noticed. So, we traveled west, ending up in Forks, a small town.

In Forks, I noticed more vampires. Unfortunately, these were more of those crazy Tanya-like creatures, the "vegetarian" vampires. But this wasn't the only strange thing about them. Five of them, who appeared to be mortals a couple years younger than I appeared to be, went to school with humans. They didn't kill them, they more-or-less socialized with them. And the worst thing of all was that one called Edward appeared to be in love with a mortal- an ordinary, ugly, puny, helpless, powerless little human named _Bella_. I have always detested the name Bella, for reasons that I can't explain.

One day, a very strange thing happened. It was stranger than these so-called vampires, stranger than Edward's attraction to Bella. The group was playing a mortal game that I remember, baseball. Then, who should appear but my sister, Laurent, and James. As I was fantasizing about killing Bella, who had increasingly gotten on my nerves over time, I missed much of the action. However, next thing I knew, she was running.

The chase was rather boring to me. I knew that James was a good tracker, and even if he had to follow them to Arizona, he would catch that Bella, and that nuisance would be gone from the face of the earth forever.

Later, when snooping around Forks, I saw Victoria, alone and crying her eyes out. She was murmuring to herself, but all I could hear was something like "he's gone" and "that evil little mortal". Not ready to confront her quite yet, I made my way over to the high school that the strange vampires went to. To my surprise and utmost disappointment, I saw Bella, alive and well.

I rushed back to the clearing where I saw my twin. She was still there, sobbing and shaking. My heart melted. Back when we were human, I would never let her go on like this. I took a deep breath, and then ventured in.

"Vicki, what's wrong?" I muttered sweetly.

"Veronica!" She exclaimed, rushing over to me, and embracing me in a bone-crushing hug. "I thought I would never see you again."

"Why are you crying?" I asked, wanting to know.

She poured her heart out to me, telling me how James had that Bella cornered, but how that Edward swept in and killed him. She told me how Laurent had deserted her, and in the back of my mind I reprimanded her, telling her that I told her so. But she was to stricken with grief for me to be able to speak harshly to her.

I promised her that together, we would be able to kill Bella, and give Edward a taste of his own medicine. She smiled at this, but her cheerful face quickly turned to one full of longing for revenge.

"Just one more thing." She said with determination.

"What?" I asked, wondering what else she wanted.

"_I_ want to kill her."

I nodded, and knew that Bella didn't stand a chance.


	5. Hunting

**Note: First of all, I am so, so, so, so sorry that I haven't updated sooner! I've just been busy with school and all... I just finished a ton of projects and tests. I would promise that I'll get the next chapter up sooner, but I can't guarantee that. Second, I'd like to thank everyone who has read, favorited, subscribed to, and reviewed this story! I really appreciate that, and it encourages me to keep writing, even though I am super busy! So please continue to read/review this story! (you can't exactly favorite or subscribe to a story more than once...)**

**I'm not really sure if I need this disclaimer, but I still don't own the Hunger Games, Twilight, or anything like that.**

**Enjoy this chapter!**

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The first thing that Victoria and I decided on was to lay low for a little bit. This was so that when those unnatural _things_ that dare to call themselves vampires lowered their defenses we would be ready, and they would not be expecting us. They especially would not be expecting me. I could easily lead them off in one direction, while Victoria snuck off to kill Bella. It seemed so simple, I laughed aloud. Unfortunately, whenever I did, Victoria would shoot me that look, the look that reminded me that we were doing this for revenge, and that she had not finished grieving over James.

So the months passed. We tried to feast on hikers as subtly as possible, but the police did notice us. Of course, they blamed it on some rabid bear. Stupid, stupid humans and their ignorance.

However, one night when I was hunting I noticed something odd. I heard sobbing, heart wrenchingly devastated sobbing. Naturally, I snuck over toward the noise to check it out. If it was any human but the one I discovered, I would have taken advantage of its helplessness and attacked it immediately. But no, it just had to be _her_, Bella, the stupid, disgusting _Bella_ who was causing my sister so much grief. I wanted to kill her. I wanted to leap on her and devour her. But I had promised my sister that she would get to kill her, so I hung back. I watched her for a while in fascination. What had happened to her? What could have caused her this much pain? She was curled up in a ball on the forest floor in the dead of night, sobbing her eyes out, which I know for a fact that the human me wouldn't be caught dead doing unless… unless something terrible had happened. People were calling for her, and I was afraid that I would have to quickly bolt away. But she didn't answer, so I stayed.

Before I knew it, I was drooling. Her scent was so incredibly scrumptious! I kept inhaling it, wishing that I could have it all to myself…

After perhaps a few more hours, it dawned on me that perhaps I could bring her back to Victoria. I was about to leap, when I inhaled again, and smelled something… odd. It was a terrible stench, so terrible that I almost started coughing to try to get it out of me. It made my hair stand on end. It was simply the most disgusting thing imaginable, the complete opposite of Bella's odor. By instinct I backed away, and then scampered into the woods, repulsed by that horrendous smell. To this day I do not know why it came. I wish it had gotten rid of Bella completely, of course. However, my luck just kept getting worse and worse. Whatever it was, it seemed to have rescued her. She was in a tragic, depressed state afterwards, but she survived, which bugged me.

The one thing that seemed different was that her Edward was gone. I hoped that he had come to his senses and ditched her.

Since the semi-vampires were gone, Victoria and I decided that we could kill Bella. It seemed to me like we would be doing her a favor, as she was so depressed. She must have really loved that thing. But I didn't care. I'd rather her suffer than Victoria.

We patrolled the forest, making sure that the Cullens had gone. They had. So, we continued with our plan. We snuck through the woods, slipping through the trees, walking lightly but swiftly.

We were almost at her house, where she was moping, when I smelled that stench that had rescued Bella. Apparently my sister smelled it as well, because we had both stopped in our tracks, sniffing.

The next thing I knew, giant, furry things flashed before my eyes. I exchanged a quick glance with my twin, and then we sprinted in different directions.

I ran full speed, and the forest flashed by me, but my pursuers kept pace with me. I swerved, changing directions abruptly. I scampered up the trees and swung from their branches. I leaped across river beds. But still they followed me.

After a while of this, I realized something. These beasts seemed to run fast, but I could hear their panting. Grinning, I poured on the speed, going twice as fast as normal. One by one, the beasts stopped, tired, until they had all left, and I was no longer being pursued.

I stood where I was, smiling and feeling triumphant, until I realized that I had no idea where I was, or where Victoria was. I didn't know if the beasts had attacked her, or if they had simply ganged up on me. I didn't know if she was hurt, or if she was in the same predicament I was in.

Then I remembered what we had agreed on before, something I had thought up just in case something like this had happened with the Cullens. _If we get separated, the rendezvous point will be the Forks High School parking lot._ It was the perfect plan, if I do say so myself. We could ask anyone, and they wouldn't be suspicious, thinking that perhaps we were new students. We wouldn't stand out either, unless of course the sun was out.

I walked, being wary in case the beasts came back. I didn't want to waste my limitless energy, and I literally had all the time in the world.

I seemed to have run a long way, because it took me a few days to get back to a recognizable part of Forks. Once I was there, it was a quick walk to the High School. When I arrived, it didn't take me long to spot Victoria's flame-red hair. I sprinted over to her.

"About time you got here," she reprimanded teasingly, "what took you so long?"

I recounted to her all that had happened with the strange beasts.

"That's weird. I don't think they even saw me." She replied.

We scampered away, toward Bella's house. We decided to sneak up from behind, through the forest again.

Unfortunately, the beasts found us again, but chased Victoria this time. They whizzed past me, intently following her. She laughed manically, and sprinted off.

Meanwhile, I was so close to Bella that I could smell her, literally. I wanted so badly to just slip into her house and kill her, but I did promise my sister. So once again, I turned my back. I walked morosely to Forks High School, prepared for a long wait.

This continued for several months. Since I was the more cautious one, Victoria was the one chased most often. I could never get a close look at the beasts, but that didn't bother me. As long as I wasn't dead in their jaws, I was fine.

But one day, I witnessed something terrible, something that made me fear the strange creatures more than ever.

I was walking through the forest, trying to think of a way to get Bella while Victoria was hunting. Suddenly, I heard noises. They weren't the normal chirping-bird, sighing-wind noises. They were voices, voices that I recognized. I scampered into a tree silently, and peered through its leaves so that I could clearly see the meadow below.

I saw Bella first. She looked scared, terrified even. Before I had the chance to wonder what was wrong with her, I saw Laurent. A smile was on his face, and it was clear that he was about to kill her. Suddenly, a harsh, yet familiar, roar came from behind him. The beasts pounced, and Bella ran. I cursed under my breath. She was safe.

Since I didn't want to see Laurent getting ripped to shreds, I swiftly ran back to Victoria, and told her everything that I saw. She was horrified.

"What if that had been one of us? Oh Veronica! How could this happen?"

I consoled her while she wept. It was strange to me how much she actually cared for him. I really couldn't care less if he died, he was the whole reason that we were like this in the first place. But I supported my sister.

After her last tears dried, everything went back to normal. We plotted better ways to get Bella, we crept through the forest at midnight, and we were chased by the beasts. The cycle never seemed to end.

But again, just as we were sure that we could succeed, things changed.

I don't know how it started exactly, but I do know that somehow Bella got into extreme sports. I had seen her riding around on motorcycles before, but this was different.

One day, I saw Bella jumping off of a dangerously high cliff.

I was with Victoria, so of course she jumped after her, gracefully. I stayed back, watching, hoping that this would be the time that we got her.

I saw Bella thrashing in the water, struggling to keep her head over the surface. Victoria cut through the waves like they were butter, getting closer and closer, until Bella was pulled away by the tide. I saw her body flailing, and my sister's swimming as fast as possible to get her. But once again, we were thwarted. Bella's companion (Jeremy? Jason?) pulled her out of the water, and began reviving her on shore.

At that moment, I knew that we never would get to her if it was just the two of us.

So while Bella was flying to Italy (I never knew why she did that, I only know that she returned with her Edward), Victoria and I hatched a new plan. This plan would guarantee that we could avenge James' death.

We were going to raise an army of vampires.


	6. Mourning

**Note: I have finally updated! I'm so sorry for the delay. I know that I said that I would updated quickly, but I've just been super busy with school. But I promise, I will definitely try to write more often, and once school ends, I will update quicker! I will also probably write faster because the rest of the story will be the Hunger Games part, which will be way more interesting for me to write.**

**I'd like to thank everyone who has read, subscribed to, or favorited my story. I would like to especially thank Commander Ael, Tribal Girl, amazing reader, TotalFeatherFoot, PeetaPercyFANGirl, and Princess Katniss for reviewing!**

**I really don't think that I need to do another disclaimer, but I guess it can't hurt. I obviously do not own The Hunger Games or Twilight.**

**Enjoy!**

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I can't do it anymore. I just can't.

Sure, telling my story up to this point was fine. Turning into a monster—easy; leaving my sister and finding her again—simple. But describing her… her…

I can't do it.

I can go into detail about our army, but not how we raised it together—that is just too painful.

The whole thing from that point on is hard to recall. Not because of my memory. Because of the pain that almost broke me that came soon after.

It was terrible.

Can I write about it?

The answer is no. I'm not that strong. Even though I can run miles effortlessly, and I can hunt humans impeccably, I still can't talk about Victoria's…

Death.

There. I said it. She died. She was torn apart by that thing that calls itself a vampire and its mangy mutt. She was burned on a mountaintop, until all that was left of my sister was a pile of ashes and a column of smoke rising into the clouds.

I was miserable. I didn't care that Bella and the Cullens had escaped. I didn't care that the army that my sister and I had carefully assembled was being slowly destroyed. I wasn't even startled that the strange beasts that had pursued Victoria and I had allied with the Cullens. I stayed on the mountaintop, with the remains of my twin. I don't know how long I was there—longer than a few hours, shorter than a few weeks. The world darkened and lightened—perhaps the sun was rising and setting. All I know is that I watched the embers of the fire that destroyed her slowly die. I viciously attacked any living thing that dared come near me—which honestly wasn't a lot. I slowly starved. But I continued keeping my vigil.

Eventually, my thirst became so desperate that I couldn't ignore it any longer. I snuck into the nearby woods, and hunted a few hikers.

I repeated the process, and eventually the snow melted away, and the wind scattered the last of Victoria's ashes.

I still kept guard there, because that place was… well, kind of sacred to me. I was afraid to leave it. I almost tricked myself into thinking that maybe, just maybe, if I stuck around just a little bit longer, Victoria would come back, laughing at me for believing that she was gone forever, and ready to carry out a plan to finally annihilate Bella.

But she didn't come.

Birds chirped in the distance, and the trees became greener than ever. But I kept coming back, and she didn't come.

The days became longer, and when I went into the forest to hunt, the hikers were slathered in sunscreen and bug spray. But I kept coming back, and she didn't come.

The leaves of the deciduous trees turned brown, red, gold, orange, yellow, and millions of shades in between. But I kept coming back, and she didn't come.

The mountaintop was swept by ferocious blizzards, and fewer hikers were in the forest for me to hunt. But still I kept coming back.

And still, Victoria didn't come.

I was heartbroken and desperate. I knew, deep within me, that she would never return, but still I stayed, pleading to myself that I was wrong, just one more day, just one more day, just one more…

I became a machine. If something moved, I would examine it to see if I was Victoria, and when I realized that it wasn't, I would spring on it and shred it to pieces. When my thirst became unbearable, I took to the woods to hunt. But I always returned to the mountaintop, hoping, wishing…

The years passed. The world was slowly changing around me. Cities grew. Forests shrank. The air became clouded with pollution. Whenever I head a snippet of a conversation, it was always tragic news—massive earthquakes, colossal hurricanes, immense floods, titanic explosions, gargantuan wars. But none of it mattered. As long as my mountaintop was intact, as long as I could convince myself that there was a miniscule, microscopic chance that I would see my sister again, I stayed.

I stayed when war broke out over food and other supplies.

I stayed when explosions would randomly destroy countless lives.

I stayed until the dust settled, and the country that I had come into so many years ago was mutilated by apocalyptic forces so that it was almost unrecognizable.

I stayed until peace reigned, and everyone declared that the worst was over, that we could finally live harmoniously in a new world.

I couldn't care less about this "new world", but I finally accepted that my sister wasn't coming back. I decided that it was time to get on with my life.

So I left the mountaintop forever, I left the world that I had known for so long, the world that I had shared with my sister.

I trekked through the now tiny forest, and past wastelands that were once great cities.

Eventually, I found myself in Panem.


	7. Reaping

**I have finally updated! I am done with school (finally!), and I promise, I will start updating more regularly!**

**Thank you so much to everyone who has reviewed, favorited, subscribed to, or read this story! Remember, please keep reviewing and reading!**

**I don't own Twilight or The Hunger Games. Obviously.**

**Edit: I have no idea why her last name was Fox. It was supposed to be Wolfe. Oh well, now that I've changed it, it's all good. :)**

**Enjoy!**

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I quickly adjusted to life in the Capitol. It was a happy, brainless place, even back then.

I tried to keep the killing to a minimum.

Everything was just so _easy_ there. I should have known that something was wrong. But I stayed as oblivious as my fellow citizens. I didn't spend much time in sight of people, except immediately after hunting. I didn't have any friends, but I did notice some people, well, noticing me. I saw them admiring my eyes—whether they were scarlet or black—, my sparkling skin, and the countless other characteristics of being a vampire. I think I started many fads.

I lived in ignorant peace for many years. I barely thought about my sister.

To be honest, it was the most boring, stupid part of my life—or perhaps I should say my existence. I didn't do _anything_. I don't know how I managed to stay in that place so long. There was no excitement. Even hunting became dull. There's no challenge in hunting lazy people, asleep in their extra-fluffy beds, snoring so loudly that it covers up any noise that I might've accidentally made.

I don't know how many years passed until there started to be news of rebellion. The districts were angry, and I could see why. They labored to give us food and all sorts of luxuries, and we gave them barely anything in return. They were starving and poor. It was only a matter of time before they would start to rebel.

But they had no chance. The Capitol had more advanced technology, the fearsome muttations, and trained, well-fed soldiers. They had a mountain range between them and the districts.

The war ended. District Thirteen was obliterated. The rest were forced to participate in the cruel Hunger Games.

I felt sick. I realized that I could no longer stay in the disgusting Capitol.

In the night, I crept out of my apartment, and started travelling to the Districts.

I knew that I could no longer rely on high fashion to disguise my… abnormalities. So I sought out a district that was the home to people with flaming red hair and amber eyes. District Five.

I took my time on the journey. The only con to this was that there were no humans for me to hunt. So I sustained myself on animals, grimacing at the fact that I had stooped as low as the Cullens.

When I arrived at District Five, I was amazed at the level of poverty. It was the end of the workday, and workers were hustling to their homes. Their hair was straggly. Their faces were pained. They were incredibly thin and hollow-looking. Some stopped to buy food for their family—meager amounts. Whenever they talked to someone, they used kind tones. It was clear that they were all familiar with each other, and were willing to help each other as much as possible. It was touching.

I knew that I appeared about sixteen, so naturally I sought out an orphanage where I could stay. They kindly took me in without question.

I grew accustomed to life in the orphanage. I went to school, helped keep the place tidy, and at night, snuck out to hunt. I was careful to hunt as ethically as I could, only preying on people who were already suffering, whose loved ones weren't depending on them. I made sure to also eat a little human food, to keep my eyes a muddled amber color. The rest I gave to the starving young orphans who reminded me so much of a younger version of myself… and my sister.

My first Reaping came. My name was entered eleven times, five for the years that I was supposedly in the Reaping, five for some extra tesserae to ration out at the orphanage.

We were huddled into the Town Square. There was a long boring speech about the history of Panem, which I mostly tuned out. Then the Reaping for the 7th Hunger Games began.

"Ladies first!" chirped our escort from the Capitol, whose name I had forgotten already. Her hand reached into the glass bowl, and pulled out a slip of paper.

"Victoria Cornay!"

The crowd parted to let a seventeen-year-old girl through. Pain shot through me. Victoria? This was a cruel coincidence. Although she looked nothing like my sister, it still reminded me how terrible these Games were. I was lost in my reverie until the boy's name was called.

"Adrian Levidde!"

Tears came to my eyes. Adrian was a small thirteen-year-old who was at my orphanage. I didn't know him well,—I didn't know anyone well, as I was afraid of eating them, or them noticing my strangeness—but I had given him my extra food many times. He trembled as he walked up to the stage. He shook hands with Victoria.

It was too much for me. I started sobbing uncontrollably. When the Reaping was over, I cried in the room I shared with some other girls. We comforted each other. But it was worse for me. I remembered my sister more vividly than ever. Long forgotten memories came spilling back. Victoria and I starting school together. Victoria and I celebrating our birthdays together. Victoria and I fatefully boarding the plane to Chamonix, France.

I numbly watched the Hunger Games with the other children. Victoria and Adrian were outshined in the chariot ride. They weren't memorable in the interviews.

The arena was a beach, with forests and hills past the shore. The Cornucopia was located on a steep cliff.

Adrian and Victoria had similar strategies—to resist the temptation of the Cornucopia, and to simply run away as quickly as possible.

It didn't work for either of them.

Adrian was running into the forest, when a knife, thrown by a lean, sleek boy from District One, was lodged in his back. He crumpled on the ground, lifeless.

Victoria survived slightly longer, also taking to the woods. But she was killed in her sleep by the pack of Careers.

The rest of the Hunger Games went by numbly. The boy from District One won, but I really couldn't care less. After I turned "eighteen", I left the orphanage forever. For many, many years, I lived just outside District Five, hunting the hopeless. Each year I didn't dare watch the Reaping, or the Hunger Games.

After decades of numb existence, I realized that I could make a difference. I could go back to the orphanage, and maybe, just maybe, get reaped. If I could take the place of someone else… I could save a life.

I returned to the orphanage. I signed up for as many tesserae as they would allow me to take—ten. My name was entered thirteen times—I had convinced them that I was fourteen; considering my size, it was believable.

However, the female tribute for District Five in the 72nd Hunger Games was Khristal Paolo. For the 73rd, it was Preana Sol.

The Reaping for the 74th Hunger Games rolled around, and I felt helpless. I was sure that another young girl would be sacrificed, and I wouldn't be able to prevent any deaths. There were thirty-five slips of paper with my name on it. I hoped it would be enough.

I found myself in the middle of the crowd with the rest of the sixteens. The same dull speech was read, and then the new bubbly escort chirped "Ladies first!" She approached the ball. I told myself that this year I would volunteer, this year I _would_ save a life.

The escort plunged her hand in the ball. She retrieved a slip of paper. She cleared her throat. The crowd was silent.

"Veronica Wolfe!"

I smiled as I walked up to the stage. My time had come. I could finally do some good in the world.


	8. Styling

**Note: The chapter is finally up! Since I forgot to do this in the last chapter, I would like to thank pjoy11! Thank you for reviewing not once but twice since Chapter Six! You (meaning everyone who reviews this story) encourage me to stop being lazy and keep writing. Please keep reviewing!**

**I still do not own The Hunger Games or Twilight. Obviously.**

**If there is anyone out there reading this who would like to design Foxface/Veronica's training outfit(s) and/or interview outfit, please PM me! I'm not really sure what I'm going to do for that, so I need all the help that I can get... Oh, and if you want to do it, please don't make it too awesome, since it can't outshine Katniss's dress, or be particularly memorable (it wasn't mentioned in The Hunger Games). Thanks!**

**Enjoy! And don't forget to review! (I know, I'm kind of pushing the review thing, but what author doesn't like reviews?)**

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Nothing of interest happened after the Reaping. No one visited me to say their final goodbyes, which I was perfectly fine with.

The train ride was boring. Sure, it would seem magnificent to someone who had lived in poverty their whole life, like Sage, my fellow District Five tribute, but to me it was just a reminder of the Capitol and its luster. I suppose the food was spectacular, but being a vampire, the only thing I really wanted was blood—which I wouldn't have been able to get without causing alarm.

We arrived at the Capitol, which was as magnificent as ever. For a moment I wished that I had never left it… but then I remembered that each citizen was happily anticipating my death.

When we arrived at the Remake Center, I expected it to be like the train ride—boring and uneventful. But I couldn't have been more wrong.

"Interesting…" was all that one member of my prep team, Glaucia, could say. Her mouth—disgustingly covered with blue-gray lipstick—dropped open, revealing a tongue covered in piercings. Her outrageously black hair (so black that it had to have been dyed) swished near her feet. In the light of the room, I could see that her skin had a bluish tinge, like her lips. Or maybe that was just because she had maybe forgotten to breathe when she saw the state of my body.

"Interesting is right." murmured Hilaria, the second member. Her hair was shorter than Glaucia's, but very spiky—literally, large and sharp-looking spikes were jutting out of her skull. It was clear that she used immense amounts of hairspray. Or perhaps it was a wig. As I was speculating this, I realized that I still hadn't heard a word from Iunius, the third member of my prep team.

He was shocked into silence, looking me up and down. I suddenly felt extremely self-conscious. But I knew why they were all speechless. I wasn't covered in "troublesome hair", as Hilaria said. Actually, her exact words were "First, we'll get rid of all of that troublesome hair on your legs and…" but she never finished the sentence. I guess that was another perk of being a vampire. Not having to shave your legs.

After they got over their shock ("Well, I suppose that saves us some time!"), they decided to perfect my nails. Glaucia grabbed my right hand. She stiffened, surprised at the chill of my hand. As she shifted her hands to get the best nail-trimming angle, her blue mouth twisted itself into a concerned frown. There was no doubt in my mind that she realized how hard my flesh was.

"Is something wrong?" asked Iunius, concerned.

Glaucia looked me in the eye… and then recoiled. "Your eyes are such a rare hue." she muttered.

Inside, I winced. I didn't realize how hard this would be. Of course my prep team—and stylist too, no doubt—would realize that my body was strange. One thought whirled around in my head—_how can I get out of this stupid dilemma?_

"Have you had… alterations?" asked Glaucia timidly.

"Kind of." I said, playing along, since I realized that it was probably the best way to avoid the whole "Oh my gosh, the tribute we're preparing for slaughter is a vampire!" situation.

"But isn't District Five not one of the richer districts?" asked Iunius, not caring that it might offend me.

"Well…" I said, trying to make it work, "not many people in District Five can afford… alterations… But if you can… It is available…" I crossed my fingers and hoped that no one would dispute this.

"Well, I'm glad that not everyone in District Five is completely ugly." scoffed Hilaria.

"It's about time that the districts caught on to the latest fashions." agreed Iunius.

I exhaled in relief, not realizing that I had been holding my breath. However, my prep team did not hear me, as they were busy prepping my nails and hair.

When I was deemed at Beauty Base Zero, my stylist, Alban, consulted with me. It was not particularly eventful. In fact, it was downright boring. Alban droned on in a monotonous voice, not caring about my opinion at all. I mostly tuned out his long spiel, but from what I did listen to, I learned that I was going to wear a lab coat. Oh, how _original_. I only watched the previous two Hunger Games, and I'm pretty sure that both female tributes wore lab coats. I mean really, that's the Capitol's idea of fashion? The other stylist, Jacinda, who was working on Sage's attire, was at least _mediocre_. I saw her work at the previous Hunger Games. Her tributes were not particularly memorable, but their outfits were a whole lot better than Alban's lab coats, which the female tributes were stuck with. Unfair.

The chariot ride came and went. I took note of the other tributes—one of them was going to "kill" me, after all. I wasn't sure how to "die" yet. I doubted that anyone would rip me to pieces and then burn me, so I figured that I would have to fake it.

The District Two tributes were particularly scary. The boy was gigantic, muscular, and clearly trained for this his whole life. The girl was slightly smaller, but still larger than any of the other girls. Sage didn't make a big splash—but that was only to be expected. I think the crowd pretty much ignored me. I wasn't anything special to them—just another District Five girl in a lab coat. Not big. Not muscular. Not fearsome. Or at least, that's what they thought. I could have easily killed them all.

Anyways, after speculating my power and boosting my self-esteem, I returned to analyzing the other tributes. There was a boy from Eleven who was just as large as the one from Two—although he probably had less experience. But the tributes from Twelve—who had made absolutely no impression on me in the past—were spectacular. They were dressed in matching outfits, and were holding hands—quite unusual, considering that they should be plotting each other's death. But that's not what made them stand out. They appeared to be on fire—no they _were_ on fire. The sun went down, and everyone's eyes were drawn to their flickering costumes. They were stunning. The crowd loved them.

I smiled. It was about time tributes from a less fortunate district snagged the Capitol's attention.

It was then that I decided to help one of them win.


	9. Training

**Note: I know that I promised to update more regularly now that it's summer... but lately I've been reading more than I've been writing. Expect the next chapter to come up in about two weeks. Maybe more. Unless, of course, I decide to be a good author and write more this weekend. But if you are reading this right now, chances are that you know how good I am at keeping my promises of updating quickly. Oh well.**

**Thanks to pjoy11 and CinnaAndFinnickLiveInMyHeart for reviewing! Anyone who is reading this, please review! Reviews make my day, and they inspire me to write more and update quicker.**

**I still don't own The Hunger Games or Twilight. Obviously.**

**Enjoy, and don't forget to review!**

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Had I been a human, the recap of the chariot rides would have been depressing. I would have been disappointed that no one seemed to notice me in my boring lab coat. But since I was a vampire, and an awfully generous, caring vampire at that, considering that I was planning to fake my own death to try to save an innocent life, I was content. The District Twelve tributes—Catnip and Peter? Cadence and Patya?—were amazing, and I honestly didn't want another Career to win. Perhaps I should have tried to help Sage, as that would shower District Five in food and riches, but something told me that not one Capitol citizen bothered to even glance at our chariot once the District Twelve tributes—Keeta and Patniss?—rolled into their sight. It would be much easier to assist them.

My mentor, Zella Merada, cornered me after a tasteless dinner—though I suppose it was only tasteless to me—, and told me that I needed a strategy. She won by allying with her District partner before the Games. Together, they scraped together some useful supplies from the Cornucopia, and then strictly rationing them out while lying low in the outskirts of the arena. They were cautious enough that they avoided Gamemaker traps—until her District partner got caught in a random stampede of muttations that were too fast and strong for him to avoid. Zella mourned him for a moment, then collected his supplies from his mangled body, and continued on. She was swift and agile enough to evade death, even if just by a little. When it got down to the final two tributes, she led the massive boy from District Four into another stampede of muttations. The only reason Zella survived is that the girl's injuries were worse, and she died just as Zella was about to lose consciousness.

"I have everything planned out." I insisted, not wanting my mentor to know that my strategy was to be killed—preferably by one of the tributes from Twelve, since that could get them even more sponsors than they undoubtedly had already.

"Really?" Zella asked skeptically. "Tell me your strategy."

I hesitated, which led Zella to believe that I didn't have one.

"Learn something useful in training. Like how to fight with a decent weapon. Don't bother with things like knots or edible insects. You're smart, right?"

It was a District Five stereotype, that we were all smart. But I nodded anyways, because I do consider myself smart. Surviving for a few hundred years does that to you.

"Then you should have no problem lasting in the arena. Try stealing food from tributes who won't notice it—for instance, Careers." She paused. "But it's too early to think about the Games yet. We need to focus on training."

I nodded again, starting to tune her out. Although her food idea was good…

"Use your time wisely." And with that, she pushed me off to my room.

The next day, I "woke" to my escort—whose name I forgot—chirping some enthusiastic slogan.

The morning was a blur of last-minute advice and more bland food. Then, we were ushered into the elevator, which swept us down from level five to the Training Center.

Sage and I walked in, and someone pinned a cloth square with a five on my back. About half of the tributes were already there, dressed in varied casual outfits, and more piled in by the minute. The last to arrive were the District Twelve tributes, who were dressed similarly again.

A tall woman whose name I also forgot—I think it started with an A—explained that we could travel from station to station as we please, following our mentor's instructions and some other boring rules. She began to read a list of stations, and I realized that maybe I _should_ check out the edible insects or edible plants stations, since that could be a backup way to "die".

Once she stopped blabbing, I headed over to the edible plants station. I meticulously paid attention, memorizing every detail that could distinguish a poisonous berry from a harmless one. Not so that I could safely eat berries off bushes in the arena, as the instructor probably thought, but so that I wouldn't pretend to die after eating something perfectly safe. I also inquired how each poisonous berry killed you, so that I would know exactly how to act once I ingested it. As I finished, I saw the District Twelve tributes heading my way. It appeared as if they had gone everywhere together. Ridiculous—but if it was some secret strategy that would help them survive, I suppose it was necessary.

For the rest of the allotted time, I headed to random stations, and half-heartedly went through the motions of learning some wonderful new skills. The only things that I actually paid attention to were things that would help me pull off a realistic death.

And I didn't go to one weapon station.

At lunch, I sat alone. Most of the tributes sat alone, actually. The two exceptions were the Career pack and the District Twelve tributes. I think I actually rolled my eyes at the latter. I wondered if they ever left each other's side, but realized that it was probably just something their mentors cooked up. A forced laugh, bubbling out of the girl's mouth, reached my ears and confirmed my suspicion.

The three days went by quite quickly. I learned many things, and kept my eye on the District Twelve tributes, who stuck together the entire time. I found that irritating, and started to seriously reconsider helping one of them win. But would it really be wise to judge someone on a strategy? The Gamemakers were also slightly annoying—all they did was take notes, stare at random tributes creepily, and eat disgusting amounts of food.

The private sessions rolled around, and I had no idea what to do. Oh, I could've pulled off a twelve easily enough, being a vampire, but I couldn't do that without… well, raising suspicion among the Gamemakers. They might have been creepy, sadistic pigs, but I'm sure they would be able to tell the difference between a human and a vampire.

Slowly, the dining room, where we were waiting, emptied. I was slated to go tenth, being the girl from District Five. When my time came, I nervously stepped into the gymnasium. For a moment I stood there, analyzing the Gamemakers's bored faces. Then I spotted an obstacle course. I nimbly completed it, making sure _not_ to be inhumanly fast. I even had the consideration to trip or bang one of my limbs somewhere a few times, feeling like I needed to lower my score.

Eventually, the Gamemakers told me to leave. And leave I did.

I really don't remember what happened next. It was all so incredibly boring…

But I do remember one tiny detail.

The training scores were being revealed on television. The Careers got higher scores on average, and everyone else got lower scores. I received a six. After a little girl from Eleven, the scores for the tributes from Twelve were shown.

The boy got an eight, which is remarkable, considering which district he's from.

But the girl…

She somehow got an eleven.

I couldn't help but grin. It seemed as if I had chosen the right tributes to help after all.


	10. Interviewing

**Note: Sorry this is a little late. I expected to be done sooner... I'll try to get the next one done earlier. I promise. :)**

**And... this is the tenth chapter! Yay! I know there are authors out there on FanFiction with 50 chapter stories, or over 100 stories total, but this feels like a huge accomplishment to me. And I have to thank CleoKatra Emerald and pjoy11 for reviewing. Without you (and everyone else who has reviewed this), I don't know if I would have even gotten to this point. So thanks, everyone!**

**CleoKatra Emerald- I would PM you with my answer to your question, but I couldn't, so I'll just answer it here! You can copy it into a word doc, as long as you just keep it for yourself to read, and don't pretend that you wrote it or anything like that. I feel honored that you want to keep it! If anyone else wants to do this, please let me know.**

**I would also like to give a huge thank you to CCullenGirl for designing Veronica/Foxface's interview outfit! It is amazing, and I definitely could not have come up with one on my own. Thank you, thank you, thank you!**

**One last note: Does anyone think that my chapters are too short? I can make the next ones longer, if people think I should. The reason I'm asking this is because I looked back at one of the previous chapters to check a name or something, and realized that the chapter seemed... short. Or maybe it's just me. Review with your opinion. Actually, review about anything in this story. I love reviews, and they motivate me to update quicker. So please, please review!**

**Disclaimer: There are some quotes from The Hunger Games in this chapter. They are dialogue that would be hard for me to exclude. I did not write them, and I don't own The Hunger Games or Twilight.**

**Enough of this. Enjoy this chapter!**

* * *

Training with my escort (whose name I still can't remember) was boring. I had to pretend that I didn't know how to walk in heels—because I seriously doubted that anyone in my District Five orphanage had even seen high heeled shoes before. And then I had to learn how to smile while talking. Absolutely horrendous—and it didn't help that my escort was insanely irritating the whole time.

Training with Zella for my interview was more interesting, but not by much. She stared at me for a while in the beginning, which was immensely creepy.

"What exactly are you doing?" I asked after a long pause.

"Trying to figure out what you're angle should be… I don't know much about you." she replied.

"Well, I can't exactly be Miss Likeable and Perfect." I retorted.

"How do you know what my interview angle was? I won the fifty-second Games… that was twenty-two years ago—before you were born." I suppressed a grin. If only she knew. "How did you find this out?"

"The orphanage was boring."

"You lived in an orphanage?"

"Yes."

"Didn't you have any friends to pass time with?"

"I didn't have close friends."

"You still didn't answer my question."

I shrugged. "Watching reruns of the Games on TV passed the time."

"But why do you remember my interview?"

"I remember your Games well because I kind of… idolized you."

"Why?"

"You were so brave. And you're the only female Victor from Five that I can recall"

Zella sighed. "That just proves my point. I know nothing about you. And… it took you a while to answer the question. Do you want me to help you or not?" She paused. "Don't answer that." She quickly added.

More awkward silence passed as Zella studied me, obviously deep in thought. After several minutes, she sighed in defeat. "It's useless! I can't think of any angle that you could successfully pull off that could get you sponsors! You're just too evasive!"

"That's a bad thing?" I asked.

Zella tilted her head, and made a strange "huh"-ing sound as she contemplated something.

"You didn't answer my question…" I said, confused and slightly creeped out.

"I think you have a point…" she said slowly.

"That you didn't answer my question?" I asked, extremely puzzled.

"No. That being evasive just might work…"

We then practiced for the interview. I suppose I was "naturally elusive" or whatever, but the truth was that I didn't really have a past life that I could talk about on live TV, besides my three years in the orphanage. But I managed.

The next day, Glaucia, Hilaria, and Iunius were back to prepare me for the interviews. I didn't pay attention to a single word that bubbled out of their cosmetically altered mouths, or what they were doing to me.

Alban came with my dress, and told me to close my eyes as he slipped it on. Suddenly, I had a flashback of Khristal and Preana from the previous two Games. Khristal had long legs, a long torso, and big eyes with enormous eyelashes. Preana was shorter, with curly hair and a longer nose. Both of their interview dresses were ghastly.

Khristal was a giraffe. Preana was a sheep.

The costumes portrayed them well as animals, but they were not flattering at all. And really, who wants to wear a dress weighted down by thousands of cotton balls?

"Open your eyes!" commanded Alban, barely containing his glee.

I braced myself for the worst.

But when I opened my eyes… I didn't look terrible. My dress wasn't covered in cotton balls.

The girl I saw in the mirror was wearing a floor length, short sleeved gown with a deep V-neck that was a beautiful reddish-orange. She had long, black gloves that came up to her elbow. The tip of her nose was black, and around her eyes was a small amount of black eye shadow. She was wearing simple black flats. Her long red hair shimmered in the light.

I couldn't believe it was me.

Even more so, I couldn't believe that _Alban_ made it. For once, he saw a beautiful animal in a tribute.

He smiled. "I thought you'd like it."

"I love it." I whispered.

I can't remember much after that. I was whisked to the stage, and sat with the other tributes. The host, Caesar Flickerman, told a few jokes, and then brought out the girl from District One.

The time passed. Twenty-four minutes, to be exact, with three minutes for each of the eight tributes before me. Then it was my turn.

I walked on stage, slightly nervous. I suppose all the tributes were nervous, but how many of them were worried about being exposed as vampires on live television?

The audience studied my costume, and collectively gasped. They were as surprised as I was at the beauty of it. They were expecting another sheep.

Caesar shook my hand. "So, Veronica, how are you doing tonight?"

"Fine."

"Anything interesting about you that you want to share with us?"

Immediately, I thought _yes, I'm actually not a human, and I really want to kill you and drink your blood right now._ But I could never say that. So instead I replied "Like what?"

"Like… are you as fox-like as your stylist implies?"

"What do you mean by that?"

"I'm the one who's supposed to be asking the questions, Veronica. You're the one being interviewed." The audience chuckled.

"But are you asking if I look like a fox under this makeup," I insisted, as another small laugh trickled out of the audience, "or if I am clever, like all stereotypical foxes are?"

"I meant the latter, but you can answer both if you like."

"Well, I suppose both the answers would just be a matter of opinion."

Caesar threw his hands up in mock frustration. "We're getting nowhere! Why can't you just make this easier for me?"

"Well, Caesar, that would take all the fun out of this for me! I do need to have some fun before I go into the arena, you know?"

He half-chortled. "Well, that is true."

We continued—him asking questions, me dodging them. Eventually, my time was up, and I left the stage.

The other interviews passed. I zoned out for most of them, pondering my "death". But I made myself pay attention as the boy from District Eleven returned to his seat. The girl from District Twelve walked onstage. Her dress was spectacular—covered in sparkling gems. It shimmered, and I saw that her stylist had continued with the fire theme.

Her interview however—mediocre. The best part was when she talked about her sister. But did that set her apart from the others? Not by much. They all had family wanting them to come home a victor.

As she left the stage, I stifled a yawn. Her district partner took her place onstage with Caesar.

He was great. He had all of the right words, and knew how to get the audience laughing. But that didn't prepare any of us for what came next.

"So, Peeta, you have a special girl at home?"

He hesitated, and then unconvincingly shook his head.

Caesar pushed. Everyone knew he lied. Everyone knew that there _was_ a special someone.

"Well," everyone leaned forward in their chairs, not wanting to miss a single word, "there is this one girl."

The sad story unfolded. He had a crush on her as long as he could remember. She didn't know he existed. Oh, poor him. He went on to explain, that if he won, it wouldn't help him. By now, everyone was confused. Why not?

Oh wait, she was his District partner.

In that instant, the girl from District Twelve changed from a girl on fire, whose reputation was created by her stylist, to half of a match made in heaven.

Once again, I smiled, knowing that all cameras would be on the unlucky pair. For once, odds were absolutely in District Twelve's favor.


	11. Playing

**Note: I am back! This chapter took longer than I expected to write, since it's twice the length of previous chapters, and I had to make tons of references to The Hunger Games.**

**There will be three or four more chapters after this one, and I am trying to finish the story by the end of August. I won't be doing much for the rest of the summer, so I think that this should be pretty easy to do.**

**As always, I would like to thank my most recent reviewers: CCullenGirl, CleoKatra Emerald, and pjoy11. Everyone, please review! Even if you think this story is terrible! (but if you do, why are you reading the 11th chapter?) Actually, review especially if you think this story is terrible. Constructive criticism is always appreciated. (praise is too!) And reviews motivate me and blah blah blah, you've heard it all before. But seriously, review.**

**There is a Career Pack conversation in this chapter, where each speaker is only identified by first voice, second voice etc., or inferred names. See if you can guess who is who. First person to review with the correct answers... um... I'll review one of your stories. I know, this is a cheap way to try to get reviews, but who doesn't like reviews?**

**Disclaimer: There is some dialouge from The Hunger Games in this chapter that I needed to use. I did not write it. I will not pretend that I wrote it. Well, I did type it into a document, but that's not what I mean. I also don't own The Hunger Games or The Twilight Saga. Obviously.**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

That night, after watching the rerun of the interviews, I said my goodbyes to Zella and my escort. Then, Sage and I went to bed. I'm sure neither of us slept, since one of us was a vampire, and the other was probably terrified of what would happen the next day.

Morning came, and I walked with Alban to a hovercraft that we would ride to the catacombs below the arena. As I climbed onto a ladder to board it, something froze me in place, and I was slowly lifted into the air.

I was brought into the hovercraft, but not released from whatever was keeping me still. A woman approached me with a needle.

"This is a tracker that will be injected into your arm." she explained. "It will help us keep track of you in the arena."

She brought the needle to my left arm, and attempted to poke it into my flesh, but nothing happened. As a vampire, my body feels like it's made of marble. I didn't think that it would be a problem—until that moment.

"That's interesting…" the woman said, confused. She tried again, stabbing my arm until the needle snapped. Meanwhile, I was motionless, wondering how I would be able to get out of this.

She sighed. "I bet Otho gave me one of those old needles… Seems his head is always in the clouds… Oh well, we can just…" she paused, thinking for a moment. "We can just secure this on top of your skin."

She sauntered off, and then returned a few minutes later with some flesh colored tape. She somehow got the tracker out of the needle, stuck it onto my skin, and slapped the tape over it.

"Hmmm," she muttered, "you're really pale. If the cameras get a close-up of you, the audience might notice that something is strange…" She paused, checking some moniter. "That's interesting, it says you're dead." She chuckled to herself. "It must be because it's not in your flesh. Oh well, we'll be able to tell when you're dead." She smiled and walked away, having no faith that I would survive.

If I was a human, I would probably wouldn't have any either.

I was finally able to move, and blankly stared out the window as we soared over land. Eventually, as we neared the arena, the windows were obscured and there was nothing to distract me from my thoughts. Alban tried to make conversation, but did not succeed.

We landed. Alban led me into my Launch Room. I showered and brushed my teeth. He helped me into the outfit that all the tributes would wear in the arena. And we waited.

"You don't have a token?" he timidly asked, after a long and awkward silence.

"No." I answered curtly.

"Oh." he replied meekly, letting the silence fill the room once more.

Finally, someone told us to prepare for launch. I stepped onto a metal plate. A glass cylinder enclosed me, and I was slowly transported up into the arena.

"Ladies and gentlemen, let the Seventy-fourth Hunger Games begin!" exclaimed Claudius Templesmith, the announcer, in his distinctive voice.

I looked around the arena for sixty seconds. A forest. Some plains. A lake. Not bad.

A gong sounded, and tributes sprinted off their respective metal plates to the Cornucopia. I paused for a miniscule amount of time, considering my options. Stay and fight for supplies I didn't really need, or run to the forest?

I went with the latter.

I jogged—well, jogged in terms of vampire speed, sprinted in terms of human speed—for a while, until I thought I was a decent distance away. I started walking.

Much later, cannons started to ring out. Eleven shots in all, each representing a dead tribute at the initial bloodbath.

I continued walking until nightfall. Then, I slumped underneath a tree, waiting for the anthem to play.

A few minutes passed until it did. I looked up at the sky, wondering who had died that day.

The girl from Three. She was unremarkable, but I still felt sad at her death. Somewhere, a family would be mourning.

The boy from Four. Surprising, considering that tributes who have trained their whole life for an event usually last at least twenty-four hours in it.

Sage… I never expected him to last long. But it was excruciating to see his head shot in the sky, knowing that the boy who I had watched the interview rerun with the night before had died.

Both from Six, both from Seven. Two districts lost their chance at a little extra food, a little bit of pride.

The boy from Eight. Again, he was unimportant to me, but certainly important to someone.

Both from Nine. Depressing how it didn't surprise me.

The girl from Ten. At this point, I asked myself why I was doing this. To watch it on television was bad enough. But to experience it, to personally see each tribute in training, in the interviews, and then in the sky? Terrible.

I clutched my jacket closer so that I wouldn't be as noticeable to any passing tributes, closed my eyes, and feigned sleep. Thoughts raced through my head the entire night. I was mainly trying to figure out how to help the tributes of District Twelve. But I came up with nothing that would work immediately.

_Just survive._ I thought to myself. _Once there are fewer tributes, it will be easier to aid them._

The night faded away, and once there was enough light for a human to see, I continued travelling. There had already been a cannon blast early that morning. I walked through the forest, staying in the shadows. There were no more cannons during the day. That night, as I hunkered underneath another tree, I saw that the girl from District Eight had died. I closed my eyes, and hoped she had a painless death.

That third day was boring and uneventful. Most of the time, I was focused on staying in the shade so I wouldn't sparkle in the sunlight.

There were no cannon blasts during the entire day, and no faces shone in the sky that night. I settled myself below a tree, hiding myself as best I could, closed my eyes, and prepared myself for another restless night full of doubts and answerless questions.

But a few hours later, I heard a distant rumbling. I opened my eyes, curious. It sounded like feet pounding the earth. It grew louder and louder, until various animals charged by me. By then, I had smelled it, and was paralyzed in shock.

Fire. The only thing that can kill a vampire.

It took until I could see the hungry flames that I realized that I should run. And run I did. I sprinted away from the inferno, not caring if I was racing at a supernatural speed. I just wanted to get out of there, and quickly.

I ran and ran, until I realized that I had left the fire behind long ago. I stopped, and, for the cameras, panted. I collapsed on the ground. I stayed there quite a while, slowly relaxing.

After a long time, I shakily got up. Blood. That was all I wanted, all I could think about. My thirst for it was unbearable.

Thirst. I groaned inwardly at the very thought of it. I was supposed to be a weak human from District Five. I was supposed to be dying of thirst—and hunger too.

I slowly meandered in a random direction, away from the fire. I was in a trance-like state, and my guard was down. But if any tribute came near me, I would kill them on the spot.

I reminded myself that I had to have control. I couldn't suck the blood of a tribute on live television that all of Panem would be watching.

I continued to walk, until I heard a twig snap. Then footsteps, loud and careless. I froze, and then made myself hide behind a tree.

"Be quiet!" hissed a voice.

Laughter erupted, not too far away from where I was.

"Listen, Mine Boy," boomed a second voice, "we're Careers. We don't need to be quiet. Any sane tribute that can hear us will run."

"But you can't kill them if they're running." replied the first.

"Obviously you haven't met my little friends yet." sang a third voice. Deranged laughter filled the forest.

"Clo-ove," a fourth voice whined, "I thought you said we could take turns with the long-distance killing."

"Like you're going to hit anything with those arrows." retorted a fifth.

"Marvel! Saranna's being mean to me!" shrieked the fourth voice.

"Yes, I can tell, I'm not deaf." replied a sixth voice, probably Marvel.

They were coming closer to where I was. I slowly backed away, and then started silently moving toward where they had come from. Once I got behind them, I was easily able to follow their clumsy trail back to a place that had to be their camp.

It was by the lake. There was a pyramid of supplies, not unlike the Cornucopia, that was covered in a net. There was a boy, who was obviously supposed to be guarding, slumped near the pile, sleeping. On closer inspection, he appeared to be the boy from Twelve. This puzzled me, but Careers had used other tributes as slaves in the past, so I got over it quickly.

I scampered to the water. Without hesitating, I plunged my hand in, and brought the cool liquid to my mouth. I drank until I was sure that people watching would be satisfied by my quenched thirst.

Slowly, I made my way over to the pile of supplies. I wondered if it was safe to approach.

Before I was close enough to snatch food, I realized something. I had heard six voices.

But there were only five Careers left.

My mind jumped back to the conversation I had overheard. The first voice, the one the second had called "Mine Boy", sounded afraid. He didn't seem like a Career.

_But why would he be with them?_ I asked myself.

Mine Boy. The only non-Career district with mines was District Twelve. But I knew the voice of the boy from Twelve, and that was not it. Anyways, he was at the camp.

I thought for a bit, and then I realized something.

Maybe they weren't talking about coal mines.

_Land mines? _I thought to myself.

It made sense. There were land mines around the metal plates that lifted us into the arena. And it was possible that there was a smart tribute that was able to reactivate them.

As soon as I realized this, I heard the Careers coming back. I dashed into a different section of the forest, where I could watch, but where they wouldn't be able to see me.

"Hey! Lover Boy!" shouted a blonde boy, the sixth voice from the previous conversation, Marvel. "No sleeping when you're on guard!"

"Sorry…" murmured the boy from Twelve sleepily.

"Get us food. We're hungry." demanded a girl with dark hair, the fifth voice. Saranna?

"I… I can't… I don't know…" stammered Twelve.

"I'll do it." piped up a small, ashen skinned boy. He was obviously "Mine Boy".

He approached the mountain of supplies. Then, he slowly hopped from one spot to another, getting closer and closer to the pile using an intricate pattern. He grabbed some fruit and meat from containers, then returned to the other tributes, hopping in the same places.

I committed where he placed his feet to memory. The tributes finished eating.

"Let's go," ordered a large, muscular boy, who I recognized as the second voice, "we need to do more hunting."

"Come with us, Lover Boy." commanded a girl with long blonde hair, who carried a bow and arrows, and also was the whiny fourth voice. "We don't need a guard."

Twelve slowly got up, and then joined them. They marched into the trees.

Once I was sure that they were gone, I walked up to their supplies. I replicated the steps of the ashen skinned boy. I picked out an apple here, a cracker there, enough so that my pretend hunger could be satisfied, but not so much that they would realize something was missing. Then, I scampered into the forest, nibbling on my food.

For the next few days, I figured out a routine. I waited until the Career pack left, then I snuck into their camp, drank water, stole food, and snuck back to my hiding spot. I did that as many times as I could throughout the day. I stayed in my hiding place, making sure no one knew I was there—besides the whole country.

There were two deaths on the fifth day—the girls from One and Four. I don't know how they died. The only things I could observe were that the Careers came back to camp covered in large, ugly lumps, that the complaining blonde must have been from One and Saranna from Four, and the boy from District Twelve was no longer with them.

One day, about eight days into the Games, I was minding my own business, until the large boy, whose name started with a C or a K, shouted something, and pointed to a large amount of smoke out in the woods. They gathered their supplies, and after a small argument, brought the ashen skinned boy with them.

That was not unusual, although I did wonder momentarily why there would be so much smoke in the forest. But then I saw something strange.

A figure, crouching in a nearby copse, obscured from the Careers, but barely hidden from me. For a while I studied them, unsure if they were a tribute, or a mutt.

I focused, and made out dark hair in a braid, a bow and arrows, and a flash of gold in the sunlight. I realized that it was the girl from Twelve.

I could just barely see her facial expression. She was confused. Her eyes were fixated on the pyramid of supplies. Her hand involuntarily twitched toward her arrows, and her eyebrows were furrowed in determination.

Suddenly, I understood. She wanted to destroy the Careers' provisions.

I wondered if she knew about the land mines—I guessed that she didn't.

I wanted her to get rid of the Careers' supplies, but I didn't know how to tell her about the trap. I thought for a moment, and then got an idea.

After quickly checking to make sure that the Careers hadn't returned yet, I crept out of hiding, and approached the supplies. I hopped from safe spot to safe spot. Then, I purposefully lost my balance.

I came crashing down, and placed my hands in another harmless place. I froze—eyes wide, trying to act terrified of being blown to bits, which wasn't that hard. Then, I carefully got up, and hopped to the main pile. I snatched my usual choices—crackers and apples—, then made my way back to the forest.

For the cameras, I pretended to examine my bounty. After several seconds of polishing an apple on my shirt, I hear a faint whisper, soft enough that no human but her would hear it, but more than loud enough for a vampire.

"It's mined."

I restrained myself from jumping up and down and screaming "YES!" Instead, I silently nibbled on a cracker. I allowed more time to pass before glancing at her out of the corner of my eye. With the acute vision I once detested, I saw a dangerous look on her face, and a light in her eye.

She had a plan. And the Careers were not going to like it.


	12. Continuing

**Note: I am back! 14 more days and 3 more chapters to go! I'll probably be able to finish in time to make my goal. :)**

**Once again, I would like to thank everyone who has reviewed since I updated: pjoy11, Crazy-Sly Angel Cullen, and CCullenGirl!**

**Also, congrats to CCullenGirl for getting the Career Pack conversation challenge thing right!**

**Please review! I need to know if you like this length, or if you prefer the shorter chapters.**

**Disclaimer: I have no idea if I still need to put this in, but I don't own the rights or whatever to Twilight or The Hunger Games.**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

The girl from District Twelve slowly stepped out of her copse, and loaded an arrow into her bow. She pursed her lips, and squinted. She was concentrating intensely, and I knew why. Destroying the Career's supplies took meticulous precision.

She pulled back the string, and released an arrow. The burlap bag that held the apple I had snatched earlier tore.

I forced myself to not look in her direction. I casually walked further into the forest. I nibbled on a cracker, pretending that I didn't know that anything of interest was happening. But, I faintly heard the whoosh of a flying arrow, and the rip of a burlap bag tearing more.

I sat, crossing my legs, and nonchalantly took a large bite of my apple.

I must have missed the third arrow being released, because the next thing I can remember is a colossal explosion. I was literally sent flying backwards.

The noise was unbearable. I crawled as fast as I could away from it, one hand clutching my right ear, trying to protect it. As the explosions slowly diminished, I shakily got up and ran—not as fast as I ran from the raging inferno, but certainly fast.

I settled down underneath an unfamiliar tree, and the sun set. I looked into the sky as the anthem played. Two faces shone in the sky that night—the boys from Three and Ten. Looking at the head shot of Three, I realized that this was "Mine Boy".

I wondered how they died, especially Three. Were their lives ended by the Careers? Was "Mine Boy" killed because his booby trap led to the destruction of all of the Career's food? Or were the two events completely unrelated?

As I closed my eyes and pretended to fall asleep, I realized that there weren't many of us left. Three Careers, both from Eleven, the pair from Twelve, and myself—eight. Remembering the Final Eight interviews from previous years, I wondered who they would interview for me. The people at the orphanage? I quietly scoffed to myself. They knew nothing about me, besides that I stayed by myself all the time. I amused myself by pondering if the Capitol would fabricate a family for me. Two red-haired parents who would only say good things about me, praising my survival, hoping I would come home soon, maybe a brother or a sister…

Sister. The word hit me, as if I was punched in the stomach, because once again, I was reminded of Victoria. What I wanted to do was curl up into a ball and cry my heart out. But I couldn't. I was in the Games, and needed to stay as emotionless as possible.

After thinking of my twin, I was more restless than any other night in the arena. I decided to wander around, and try and find another way to be helpful to the tributes from Twelve.

The forest was all the same—nothing of interest. Eventually I reached the Cornucopia. The golden horn shone brightly in the moonlight. I looked around, and saw a drop-off. Surely that had to lead somewhere. I wondered if that was where the tributes from Eleven were. The last time I saw them was at the bloodbath—no, I didn't actually see them, but that was the last place that I know that they were.

I decided to explore.

Walking down the steep slope, I saw that there were countless plants—mostly grains and grasses, but also an occasional flower. They were extremely tall, and would easily be able to conceal a large tribute. I glanced my around, not wanting to be ambushed by the large boy from Eleven—or anyone, for that matter. His district partner, the little girl, got a better score than expected, considering her size and age.

I took a deep breath, and reminded myself that I was a _vampire_, and that I could easily kill the seven other tributes in the arena.

I continued to meander. Suddenly, I heard a noise.

I froze, straining my ultra-sensitive ears. Then I heard it again—deep breathing, coming from something or someone who had to be asleep. As silently as I could, I snuck toward it.

When I was closer to the breathing, I got more cautious. The stupid plants were making too much noise, and I worried that I would wake up whoever was sleeping.

I parted two stalks of some grainy thing, and peered through the gap I made. And that's when I saw him.

If I hadn't spent days outside the Career's camp, I would've thought he was one. He looked more massive sleeping amongst those annoying rustling plants, clutching a long knife, then he did during the reapings, chariot rides, interviews, and wherever else I saw him in preparation for the Games. He had a pile of something nearby, half covered by a small tarp. Feeling daring, I took a small step closer, and squinted. It was a pile of plants, probably edible ones that he was living off of. But that made sense—he was from District Eleven, where they worked in fields and orchards, harvesting food.

Before he woke up, I left, trying to dodge those idiotic plants as much as possible. I was relieved when I arrived at the Cornucopia. Being trapped amidst all those swaying grasses and rustling grains made me feel uneasy. Out in the open I could anticipate an attack much quicker.

I wandered through the forest some more, feigning drowsiness. When the sun finally came up, I found myself back at my hiding spot, near the Career's camp. No, it probably wasn't their camp anymore, not after their supplies got blown up.

After carefully peering through the trees and noting that the Careers were gone but the girl from Twelve was huddled behind a bush, I walked into the clearing.

That's when I saw the rubble.

I scampered to the pile, carefully at first, not sure if there were still mines. But once I realized that any debris would set off a remaining mine, I let my caution slide away.

I poked at the remains of the pyramid with the tip of my boot, just to make sure it was real. And it was.

I didn't know quite how to act about it for the cameras. I hadn't thought about it. So I smirked, looking around the wreckage in pleasure.

That didn't seem like enough, though, so I forced a laugh. One that would tell everyone watching that I didn't know what the earlier explosions were, that this was a wonderful surprise.

I kept laughing, and each second the sound seemed more authentic. I thought of what this would mean to me, to the tributes of District Twelve, to every single remaining underdog in these Games, to their Districts. And I laughed.

I surveyed the rubble, finding a few useful items. Then, a sound alerted me to someone noticing my presence. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the girl from Twelve watching me.

I could have let her just kill me then, but I wanted to tip her off about the boy from Eleven in the plants. I stiffened, turned my head toward that dangerous territory, and then sprinted at a decent human pace back to my hiding spot.

After I was sure she left, I returned to the lake, drank some water, then started walking in a random direction, hoping to run into a tribute with food I could steal. Or blood I could discreetly drink.

Nothing happened though, so I figured that the audience was amused enough with the destruction of the Career's food. But something else must have happened, because that night the boy from One and the tiny girl from Eleven were in the sky. Did she run into the Careers and put up a fight, somehow killing the boy from One? I had no idea.

The next day was uneventful as well, and there were no deaths. I was settling under a tree, wishing I had stolen some food from the boy from Eleven when I had the chance, when I heard it.

Trumpets. And then Claudius Templesmith, telling us that the two tributes from the same district can both be victors if they are the last two alive. He repeated it several times, knowing we would not understand.

I fought the smile that threatened to show on my face, because I had no one to smile for. The viewers didn't think that this would affect me. But it did. Because then…

Then both tributes from Twelve could win.

I reminded myself that this also applied to the tributes from Two. But somehow, I didn't think that the Capitol called for them to be together always, like they were destined to. Or whatever lies they came up with.

I didn't see any tributes for two days. I drank some water from a stream I found, but had no idea how to satisfy my fake hunger. I clutched at my stomach and moaned for quite a bit, but nothing happened. Either I had no sponsors, or Zella thought that I could survive without food.

On that second afternoon, more trumpets sounded. I looked at the sky, surprised, wondering if I was imagining it. But I never imagine things, and sure enough, Claudius Templesmith's voice rang out once more, inviting us to a feast.

I beamed at the heavens. But then he said something else. That each of us needed something desperately. I nodded. I needed food—and blood, although there was no way that he could know. He told us that there would be a backpack with our district number on it at the Cornucopia at dawn, containing that thing we desperately needed.

Once his announcement concluded, I made a 180 degree turn, and started briskly walking back to the Cornucopia. I wanted to get there before anyone else, so that if my backpack was full of blood, it wouldn't be accidentally picked up by a human. I scolded myself, telling myself not to get my hopes up, because once I thought of blood and my need for it, it was hard to banish the thought out of my head.

I arrived at the Cornucopia just as the artificial moon was rising. There were no deaths today, but the people of the Capitol were anticipating an exciting, bloody feast, so I felt relatively safe as I approached the golden horn. I inspected it, but found nothing. I decided to wait in the Cornucopia, so I would get my pack first.

I closed my eyes, and pretended to doze…

Later, a slight trembling of the ground caused me to raise my eyelids. A table, with four backpacks, was suddenly in front of the mouth of the horn. Without thinking, I sprinted to the table, and grabbed a medium sized green one with a five on it. Then I ran away into the forest.

No assailants came after me, and as I glanced back, I saw that mine was still the only pack taken. I speculated about what could be in the others. There were two large black ones with the numbers two and eleven, and a tiny orange one that most likely had a twelve. What did the tributes of District Twelve need that was so small? I had no idea whatsoever.

Once I felt that I was a safe distance away, I opened my pack, unsure of what I would find.

It was a rather large and quite bloody hunk of some meat I couldn't recognize. It looked cooked enough, and there were no utensils or anything I would be able to use to cook it with, so I just tentatively took a small bite. It was delicious. If I wasn't being watched by so many unknowing people, and if I wasn't so bloodthirsty, I would have rejected the animal blood and been disgusted at the very thought of it. But I needed it so badly… it took all my resolve not to devour the whole thing at once. I knew that it needed to last me until I could find another food source.

I took a few more nibbles, and then put it back into the backpack. I was just about to decide which direction to walk in, when I heard a noise.

It was coming from my right. I turned my head, confused. It sounded like multiple footsteps, too many sets for it to be tributes, and anyways, I was sure they were still at the Cornucopia…

But they weren't tributes. They were some type of animal, charging at me with terrifying speed. One glance at their razor-sharp fangs, glistening in the sunlight, told me that they were lethal.

So I ran away.

At first, I was jogging at a respectable human rate, but when that proved to be too slow, I started flat-out sprinting. I raced farther and farther into the forest, knowing that soon I would have to decide to turn around and fight.

But I never got to make that decision, because next thing I knew, I was falling into a hole that suddenly appeared in the ground.


	13. Dying

**I figured that putting "Note:" at the beginning of my author's notes made it seem like I was giving a warning (Note: Contents may be hot, Note: Do not use while operating heavy machinery, etc.), so I've decided to not use it anymore.**

**This chapter is a little shorter than the previous two. I hope you don't mind. :)**

**Once again, I would like to thank the people who have reviewed since I last updated (just one this time): Lunaria Celeste! I hope you're satisfied with my Gamemaker Trap. :)**

**Please review! Do you want chapters this length or longer? Do you love/hate any specific parts of this story? Oh, I've also been thinking of writing a sequel (or two!). It would be pretty much the same thing, except the story of a different vampire in Panem. If people would want to read it, and don't think it'd be too repetitive, I _could_ even do a trilogy. What do you think?**

**I don't own the rights to any published book.**

**Enjoy!**

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I landed at the bottom of the pit on my feet, hands brushing the ground so I would stay balanced. Had I not been chased by things that I was sure were muttations bent on my destruction, I would have smiled, thinking that perhaps Alban should have portrayed me as a cat. But seconds later, they fell into the pit with me.

Backing myself up into the curve of the pit, and resting my back against the wall of dirt behind me, I raised my backpack in front of my neck protectively. The mutts snarled, casually pacing, obviously figuring out the best strategy to attack.

I took a shaky breath, and examined them. There were three of them, identical, with reddish fur, jet-black paws, plume-like tails with cream-colored tips, and pearly, monstrous fangs, dripping with venom, saliva, or a mixture of both. Their long, sharp claws tapped a muffled cadence as they slowly creeped closer, and their dark, soulless eyes gleamed in anticipation of my death.

My own eyes widened as I realized what they were.

Foxes.

They leaped at me. I batted one away with my backpack, and its flailing paws caused a claw to gouge another's eye. The third was scratching at me, trying to get a good hunk of my flesh nice and bloody, but only tearing my clothes. Not knowing what else to do, I started hitting it with my pack repeatedly. I must've been using more force than I intended to, or maybe the meat was just really heavy, because the mutt was soon unconscious at my feet.

The others crept closer, preparing themselves for a second attack. I looked around, wondering if I really just had a backpack to defend myself with, when I saw a large, jagged rock, not too far away from me. It was probably there to injure me if I fell on it, but since I hadn't, I figured that I could use it as a weapon. Holding my backpack in one hand menacingly, I leaned over. My fingers closed around it, and I yanked it free. Later, I would wonder why it was so easy to obtain. I'm pretty sure it was because the Gamemakers thought that I would give the viewers a better show if I fought. Or maybe they weren't securing it in the first place. But at that moment, I didn't have time to speculate about the Gamemakers' motives. The two fox mutts were already jumping at me, teeth bared in two identical—and very ugly—snarls. I raised the rock in my right hand and threw it at the mutt with two good eyes. With my left hand, I started striking the other mutt with the backpack, hoping that it would work again.

After many blows to the head, the one-eyed mutt fell to the ground. I made myself "catch my breath" for the cameras before examining the muttations.

Once I felt like a human would be ready, I looked at the mutts. The two that I had hit with my pack were out cold—but still alive, since I could hear their hearts beat. The one that I threw the rock at had blood streaming out of its neck. Its heartbeat slowed. Then, it slowly melted into the ground, dead, leaving the stone behind. After I was sure it was gone for good, I picked up the rock and bashed the other mutts on the head, killing them both.

And then they too sunk into the ground, leaving me alone in a hole.

I sat, resting, until I felt ready to get out of the pit and move on. I then put on the backpack, and jumped. I couldn't get high enough without everyone watching knowing that something was up, so I jumped again, this time my hands and feet scrambling to find a foot or handhold. I should've known it wouldn't have worked, seeing as the wall of the pit was _completely smooth_, but by doing it, a lot of dry dirt came loose. I tried to take advantage of this, but whenever I touched a newly made handhold—or foothold—, it crumbled. It took me a while to realize that I was trapped.

I sighed, and sat back down. I thought about the fox muttations, wondering if they were sent after me specifically because of my interview outfit. It wouldn't have been the first time it happened. In the 72nd Games, Khristal—the female tribute from Five, who Alban portrayed as a giraffe—was attacked by ferocious giraffe mutts. And if Preana—the female tribute from Five in the 73rd Games, portrayed as a sheep—made it past the bloodbath, she probably would have been attacked by sheep mutts that craved human flesh.

I tried to remember if this had happened any other time, and I thought of the inferno that brought me near the Careers' camp. Was it intended for the girl from Twelve, who wore fiery ensembles to both the chariot rides and the interviews? It surely couldn't have been meant for her district partner, since he was with the Careers. Or was it a complete coincidence?

I tried to recall if there was any other instance of this in my Games, when the anthem played. I looked up to see that the girl from Two had died, probably at the feast. I then realized that there were only five tributes left—the pair from Twelve, the boys from Two and Eleven, and myself. I needed to "die" soon, preferably at the hand of one of the tributes from Twelve.

But before I did that, I needed to get out of that annoying hole.

There wasn't much I could do about it though, so I just sat and nibbled on my meat—which surprisingly wasn't that beat up from pummeling the mutts. I then closed my eyes and thought of ways to get myself "killed".

Sometime during the night it started to drizzle. In time it got steadier and steadier—by morning it became a thunderstorm, and by evening I felt like I was drowning. The wall of the pit turned to mud, and occasionally a small chunk of it—left by my scrambling, but not sturdy enough to withstand the downpour of rain—would fall on my head. The water never made a pool in my hole, but instead constantly slipped through.

The days passed. Each night the anthem battled against the thunder to be heard, and no faces shone in the sky.

I slowly got through my meat, and swallowed rain as it poured into my mouth. I fought boredom by imagining creative ways to stage my death. They became increasingly strange. One of the few that I remember involved falling into the mud after an escape attempt, struggling to pull my face out of its grasp, and eventually suffocating.

Oh, how I entertained myself.

However, one night there was a tribute's head shot in the sky—the boy from Eleven. A few hours before dawn, the storm abruptly stopped.

Since there weren't buckets of water pushing me down the slippery wall of the pit, I was easily able to climb out. The mud was strong enough to hold me, but I was still able to sink my limbs into it.

I celebrated my victory over the hole by finishing my meat. Then, I decided to try and track down the tributes from Twelve. Of course, if I ran into the boy from Two, I wouldn't have minded killing him either.

I wandered around the forest, until I heard footsteps. Voices followed, then unnatural-sounding birdcalls. I slowly crept closer.

Peering through some bushes, I saw him—the boy from Twelve. He was crouching, gathering roots. I could smell nearby food, and waited for an opportunity to steal some.

Eventually, the boy headed toward a stream, and started plucking berries from a bush. He laid them on a tarp, and then headed back for more.

I snuck closer to the tarp, and grabbed a few berries. I scraped a tiny bit from some of their cheese. Then I scurried away to eat.

I gobbled up the cheese, but something made me inspect the berries. They looked familiar, but I knew that they weren't from training. Then I remembered.

A long time ago, back when Victoria had recently died and I was living off hikers, a strange incident occurred. A lone hiker was picking berries. I was just about to pounce, when he began thrashing around spastically, and dropped to the ground, dead. I drank his blood anyways, but I do remember looking at the strange berries that ended his life for me.

And those berries were the same as the ones the tributes from Twelve were eventually going to eat.

I popped them into my mouth without hesitation, knowing that they wouldn't eat them after they realized I had died from them. And, by being removed from the Games, I would bring them one step closer to becoming victors. They just needed to kill the boy from Two.

I began to twitch, flailing body parts in different directions. I heard the girl from Twelve yelling at someone, probably her district partner. I fell to the ground, decreasing my twitching, then froze, hoping the Gamemakers would think I was dead. The boy from Twelve's gentle voice reached my ears.

Silence fell around me. Then, a cannon fired. My cannon.

A single bird let out a warning cry. I opened my eyes slightly, registered a hovercraft that had appeared above me, and forced my eyelids to close completely.

The claw of the hovercraft grasped my body, and I was lifted into the air. I was completely limp, and felt a breeze playing with my hair.

I remember one though going through my head.

_May the odds be ever in your favor._


	14. Pretending

**Well, I'm almost done! Hopefully I can write the last chapter in two(ish) days.**

**I would like to thank Lunaria Celeste, CleoKatra Emerald, and pjoy11 for reviewing! Please review! Because if you don't review by the time I update, you won't get recognized in the author's note... like you actually care about that. :)**

**I don't really have anything else to say... so enjoy!**

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The claw gently dumped me onto a stretcher. The patch on my arm that bound my tracker to my flesh was peeled off. Someone or something examined my body for injuries, and, finding none, wheeled me deeper into the hovercraft.

Before, I wasn't really sure what to expect after my staged death. I guess I thought I'd just be packed into a coffin and sent away to District Five.

Well, I was wrong.

A hand grasped a hunk of my hair, and rolled it in its fingers. It held the scarlet strands up—probably to get better light. And that's when I heard a voice—a shrill, female voice that spoke with the distinctive Capitol accent, very close to my head.

"It's red, very red. No, not that disgusting fake _red _red, Domitius."

"I _know_, I _know_." replied a male Capitol voice, most likely Domitius, annoyed. "Just let me get to the district colors."

"They're not called 'district colors'," retorted the female, "they're _natural_ colors."

"Same thing."

"No it's not!"

"Just keep looking at it. Hey, does this shade look good?"

"Ugh, no! It's all… all… ugh!"

Domitius let out an exasperated sigh. "Why can't we just use the _actual hair_?"

"We're not allowed to alter the body in any way, you know that."

"But it would be so much easier! And anyways, who cares about the condition of the body?"

"Well, I care, because if we cut off her hair, and our boss finds out, I'll be fired! And so will you! And then guess who won't be getting a Cashmere tattoo with inlaid jewels on their—"

"Okay! Okay! Fine!"

They continued to bicker, fighting over every detail they typed into the machine. When they were satisfied, bony hands pulled back my eyelids.

I found myself staring at impossibly thin fingers that had iridescent gems instead of fingernails. A woman with teal eyelashes that were literally a foot long, indigo irises, navy pupils, and bright green hair that was a perfect column over her head stared into my eyes. I made sure not to look anywhere else other than straight up.

"Oooh, these are so pretty!"

A man with glossy black feathers for hair, polka-dotted lips, and no eyebrows leaned into my view. "Mmm, I wouldn't mind having those myself!" I noticed that his eyes were a natural-looking brown, but the whites of his eyes were the same color. "Are you sure they're natural?"

"Eh, who cares?"

They took measurements and argued about the exact shade of my eyes. I wasn't even sure what color they were, since I didn't know how the animal blood affected them. From what I heard, they were a dark amber.

When they were done, they wheeled me off muttering things like "finally, we're done." and "Crane better be pleased with these mutts, we spent forever on them."

They left me in a room with a bright white ceiling. At first I thought I was alone. Then I heard the chatter.

"I was getting my eyebrows gelled when she died!" screeched Hilaria. "It was _so annoying_! I was only able to get one done, so my left eyebrow is spiky, but my right eyebrow is," she paused for effect, "_flat_."

Glaucia and Iunius consoled her. Then, they got to work.

One pair of hands did my hair, while another put on small amounts of makeup. The third pair of hands did my nails. When they were done, they replaced the dirty outfit I wore for the Games with a dress and flats. After that they just walked away, talking about how fish scales were passé, and feathers were so much more fashionable.

Two people walked into the room. I realized that they were Avoxes when one—a dark-haired man—leaned over to gently close my eyes. Then they hoisted my off my stretcher, and placed me into something that I assumed was my coffin.

I don't really know what happened next. I was jostled a lot, and I think I was moved onto a train. Time passed. I thought about random, insignificant things that I can't remember now.

Eventually, I was deposited on the ground. I heard voices that I couldn't place, but were familiar. Someone opened my coffin. People stroked my cheek and patted my head. Someone fingered strands of my hair, like the Capitol lady did, and said "I was always jealous of her. She was so pretty."

A funeral ceremony was carried out. Children that I had lived with, but whose names I didn't know said nice things about me. The adults who ran the orphanage told everyone that they regretted allowing me to take so many tesserae. They sang a song in a minor key as my coffin was closed, I was put in a pit, and buried.

I heard footsteps. They slowly faded into the distance until my world fell into a complete silence.

More time passed. Because, believe it or not, even if they're buried, even if they have nothing else to live for, even if they believe that have done their job for this planet, vampires live on. I thought about the tributes of District Twelve. I thought about the mystery girl from Five who still lived because I was reaped. I thought about why Domitius and that woman needed to copy my hair and eyes. I thought about the sharp yet somehow satisfying taste of the poisonous berries.

But most of all, I thought about my sister.

I remembered her mischievous smile, the way her vivid red hair would shine in the sunlight. I recalled with a sad smile how people would call her Veronica, and call me Victoria. I chuckled to myself, with tears pouring down my cheeks as I recollected innumerable tiny memories. The whole experience was surreal—I was trapped in a wooden box that didn't give me any breathing space, but I didn't need to breathe; I was feeling countless emotions but didn't know if it was day or night.

I needed to hunt. The animal blood I had received in the arena had given me a brief respite from my thirst, but that was over.

Rain, drumming on the ground above, reached my ears.

I pushed on the lid of my coffin, and it slowly opened. Droplets of water caressed my face, cleansing it of dried tears and causing my makeup to smear more than it already had.

I stood up, and stepped out of the coffin onto solid ground. The full moon shone brightly, illuminating the cemetery. I snuck out.

Creeping along the road, I felt strange, like I didn't belong in that world. I laughed at myself silently. Of course I didn't belong. I was a monster. Wearing a simple black dress, with mascara and eye liner smudging on my pale cheekbones, I looked the part too.

I heard the soft whimpers of a starving child. Peering through a dirty window, and seeing his emaciated body, curled up on a ragged blanket, I knew I would be doing him a favor.

I was thirsty. Six painful lives were peacefully ended that night.

I lay down in my coffin and closed the lid.

That cycle repeated. It repeated for a long time—maybe months, maybe years, maybe decades.

I speculated if anyone would be in the graveyard as I got ready to hunt. But no one ever was.

One day—or maybe it was nighttime—I heard a noise. An explosion. A bomb. And screams. I don't know how far away it was. I'll never know. But I do know that it happened many, many times. I stayed in my tomb longer than I should have after that, unsure what was happening.

And another time, I looked at the small plaque behind my grave, wondering what it said. I think I expected some sentimental quote that would describe my life. But all I read was "Veronica 'Foxface' Wolfe—74th Hunger Games"

Well, at least they gave me a nickname.

Time passed. I stayed in my coffin until my thirst was unbearable, reminiscing. I hunted the suffering. I returned to my coffin. Bombs exploded. People screamed. Time passed.

Occasionally, I would hear snatches of clips on televisions, but nothing ever meant anything to me.

There came a time when there were always cries of pain coming from everywhere. When the words I heard most were "rebels" and "mockingjay" and "katniss" and "snow". When I thought I heard "District" and "Thirteen" in the same sentence.

So it was only natural that I would start listening for it before I hunted, mainly so that I could somewhat tell what was happening in Panem.

After one of my longest periods of time without blood, I strained my ears for bombs, for screams, for monotone words coming out of the televisions, bringing bad news.

I heard nothing.

I frowned, and then listened again. And then I heard it. A mumbling, a pause. And gasps, many gasps. Then a sentence, a simple sentence that was spoken clearly and came from all directions. A sentence that meant nothing to me, but obviously meant something to the people of District Five.

For the first time since I was buried, I heard cheering.

For the first time since I was buried, I hear laughter.


	15. Restarting

**Well, this is it! After 1 year, 15 chapters, 28 reviews, 11 reviewers, 1,277 hits, 10 favorites, 13 alerts and 26,055 words, this story is done! All of those numbers were way bigger than I expected. Except for maybe the year. Thanks to pjoy11 and CleoKatra Emerald for reviewing the last chapter, and a giant thank you to everyone who reviewed or favorited or subscribed. Also, if you're reading this now, thanks so much for sticking with this story all the way through. This is my first chapter story that I've completed. It's like, I don't know, my baby or something.**

**For anyone who likes my writing, check out my other fics: a Twilight one-shot, Switching (I'm actually not obsessed with Twilight, but I do get ideas for fics); and a Percy Jackson and the Olympians/Watership Down crossover, Atalantarah. Hopefully I will resume that now that I'm done with this. I will write some Hunger Games one-shots that I have ideas for, but I have no idea when, since school is starting tomorrow and I'll probably have less time for fanfiction than last year. **

**There will be a sequel to this. I'll probably start writing it next summer. I have no idea what the title will be, so just keep checking the Twilight/Hunger Games crossover section once June comes around. In the description I'll say that it's the sequel to The Secrets of the Girl with the Fox-Like Face.**

**Review with what you thought of the story!**

**Enjoy!**

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Confused, I listened for something, anything that would help me understand what was going on. But all I could hear was delirious laughter.

I stayed in my coffin for a long time after that, unsure what the cheering meant. So when I finally exited the cemetery to hunt, I expected a change.

But not one so drastic.

First of all, the people bustling around town were _happy_. They looked different too—definitely healthier. Some had the trademark features of other districts. Others were sporting the crazy fashions of the Capitol.

I walked around, looking for misery to end. But I couldn't find any.

I snuck into an empty house, and turned on the television, unsure what was happening. And I saw the girl from District Twelve, singing on a stage. I flipped through the channels, until I found a man speaking.

"The Hunger Games may be over, but we need to remember all the innocent lives lost so that it never happens again…"

And I froze, uncomprehending. The Hunger Games were… over? I became more confused than ever. What had happened when I was dead?

Hoping for an explanation, I continued to watch. But the man was done talking, and names were scrolling across the screen with pictures of children being killed as a background while depressing music played. I turned off the television, and went outside.

I wandered for a while, needing to know what was going on, but knowing that if I asked, people would know that something was weird about me. A woman walked up to me.

"Excuse me, miss, would you like to take part in the Rebuilding Panem Project? The war destroyed many homes and places of importance throughout the country, so we are looking for volunteers who can help rebuild. I can understand if you don't want to spend your days doing manual labor, or if you'd rather have a paying job, but—"

"I'll help." I interrupted, deciding that having a job would be best for me, even if it was volunteer work—anyways, who needs money when they're a vampire?

My only requirement was that I wasn't working in District Five. I couldn't risk someone from the orphanage recognizing me.

So I worked. I started out in the Capitol, where they seemed to have the least volunteers, but the most demand for work. I helped rebuild so many of their crazy houses that I got sick of neon colors. When I told one of the organizers that I could not stand to be surrounded by green—or pink or yellow or red or blue or any other color—that burned my eyes all day, he just smiled and said "Capitol getting to you?" When I nodded, he chuckled and told me that it happened to every volunteer from the districts. I was relocated to District Two, where they had me clear debris that was blocking entrances to a mountain where they mined and kept the Capitol's weapons.

I liked that work. I could use my vampire strength to do something good, and I slowly obtained small pieces of information about what had happened while I was dead from overhearing fellow volunteers talk.

I hunted, but not as often as I did before Panem—I killed just enough so that I wouldn't attack people while working, but not enough to trigger suspicion.

Life was good for me. I thought I could keep doing that forever—just continuing to relocate, and maybe change my name or fake another death once in a while.

But one day, something strange happened. I was walking around the district after my shift ended, just looking around. I wanted to peek though someone's window that evening, and watch the news or something, so I would have a better idea of what was going on—I still didn't have the whole story, and that bugged me. Suddenly, a tall, muscular woman with short, dark hair walked up to me.

She stared at me for a while with her dark brown eyes. Then she spoke.

"What's your name?"

"Why?" I replied, unsure of what this lady wanted.

She tilted her head, studying me. "I think I know you."

I stiffened, wondering if she remembered me from the Games. I didn't know how long ago that was, and assumed that no one who watched would remember me.

"Tell me, I won't bite." She laughed, as if this was an inside joke she had—with herself.

"Veronica Wolfe."

"I thought so…" she murmured, smiling. Suddenly serious, she looked me in the eye. "I know what you are."

Thoughts raced through my head. I didn't know how she could guess. I was pretty sure she was crazy, too. "I—I have no idea what you're talking about." I stammered.

"Don't be stupid, Foxface." she said, smirking.

"Who are you?" I asked, taking a step back.

She took a step forward. "Do you really not know who I am? Everyone knows my name. Have you been living under a rock?" She leaned forward. "A gravestone, perhaps?"

I opened my mouth to make some excuse, but her words came first. "Don't bother hiding it from me. I know you're a vampire."

"_What?_"

"But don't worry, I haven't told anyone, and I never will."

"How do you know?" I exclaimed. Someone across the street looked at us. I stepped closer, and whispered "Tell me."

"Let's just say it takes one to know one."

Suddenly she was different. Her eyes weren't dark brown, they were black with a hint of red. And she was paler than any other District Two native I had seen.

"I just want to know one thing." she muttered. "Why did you do it?"

"Why did I enter the Games? Well, I was reaped, so—"

"No!" she snarled. "I don't care why you were in the Games! I was in them too! What I want to know is why you_ lost_!"

"You're a victor." I said.

"Yes, I'm a victor." she said impatiently. "_Why aren't you one too?_"

"If I tell you," I replied, "you have to tell me something too."

"Sure."

"Well, I wanted to do the noble thing and prevent innocent lives from being lost."

"Ugh! They're _humans_! Why?"

"Because we were once humans too." When I saw that she wouldn't accept this answer, I added another reason. "And because I wanted to feel like I've done something good in my life."

"Whatever. You can think that you allowed the tributes from Twelve to win, which caused the rebellion, which caused the end of the Hunger Games and such." she said, rolling her eyes.

"Wait. Really?"

"In a way, I suppose. Now what did you want from me?"

"First of all, who are you?"

She chuckled. "When I first came to the Capitol, I went by Izzy. You see, my birth name is wonderfully versatile, so I can change my name to a nickname once I've lived too long."

"Izzy?" I ran through names in my head, when suddenly one stopped me. "_Isabella?_ _Isabella_ _Swan_?"

She looked at me strangely. "No. Elizabeth Gray. But now I go by Enobaria. Doesn't it sound fearsome? Much better than petty _Elizabeth_."

"Okay… Are there any more of us? Vampires in Panem?"

"I don't know," she replied, "there could be any number of us lying low in the districts or the Capitol. But I do have some ideas."

"Who?"

"Well, there was a tribute in the past—Titus, I think—who tried to eat tributes he killed. He was either a lunatic, or a vampire. And…"

"And…?" I prodded.

"I have been speculating about one interesting person for a while," she said, "but I don't think I'll ever be sure…"

"Tell me."

She took a deep breath. "President Snow. Don't say anything yet, just listen. His breath stinks of blood. He's kind of pale. And you know how Finnick told everyone about how he used poison to kill threats to his presidency?"

"No," I said, "I was buried alive at the time. And I have no idea who Finnick is"

"Sorry, I forgot. Anyways, Finnick was a victor, and he was also a rebel. So he told the world about Snow's dirty little secrets. But I really don't think that Snow would stop at anything to take control of this country. I know I don't have good evidence, but I have a feeling that he was faking death, just like you were, and that he'll be back someday."

I shivered. "One last thing… how do you look older?"

"Surgery." She glanced at a watch. "I have to go. Some shrink thinks that I have mental problems, so we have to discuss feelings or whatever." She started to leave, but turned back. "Meet me here tomorrow. Same time. I've never met another vampire before in Panem, and I feel like we both have some questions for each other."

"Sounds great." I said.

Life went on. I talked with Enobaria, and learned exactly what had happened when I was buried, and how she knew I was a vampire. I continued to work for a while. When she learned about my sister, Enobaria suggested I go back to the place of her death.

It was hard for me. I cried a lot. I built a small memorial, even though I knew that no one else would see it.

And I was finally able to let her go. Because, for the first time since I became a vampire, I had someone else to share my secrets with.


End file.
